


Doctor, Doctor

by lulublue1234



Series: FAMILY IS MORE THAN BLOOD [1]
Category: Bangtan
Genre: Agoraphobia, Alternative Universe Single Parents, Complicated Relationships, Crush at First Sight, Doctors & Physicians, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hoseok Is Sassy AF and Jimin's Dad, Humor, Jin's A Pediatrician, Kid Maknae Line (Jungkook Taehyung Jimin are five), Kidnapping, Kim Namjoon | Rap Monster Is Bad at Feelings, Love, M/M, Namjoon Is Writer With Bad People Skills, Past Relationship(s), Romance, Secret Past, Slice of Life, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-10-27 03:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10800849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulublue1234/pseuds/lulublue1234
Summary: Namjoon's a single father with agoraphobia.Seokjin's a single father with a demanding job.Both are struggling to be good parents.OrThe time five-year-old Taehyung kidnaps five-year-old Jungkook...because, "We have the same last name so we're brothers"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my_hope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_hope/gifts).



> To my recipient.  
> I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. I did take some liberties with the plot, but I hope it remains true to the concept you had in mind. I enjoyed the process of bringing this world to life, so much. Thank you for this prompt and for opening up this world to me. Also, to the best BETA in the world, thank you so much!!!

“Yoongi, oh shit!” Namjoon’s screaming in the receiver; his cell phone’s hitched between his ear and his shoulder. “He’s bleeding, Kookie, he’s bleeding. Shit, I broke him, I broke my son!”

Hysteria’s wrapping itself around him like a boa constrictor, and Namjoon believes he’s going crazy and on the verge of losing his mind. He knew this would happen; he’s not good with things. He’s known to break things, to destroy things. Deep down he’s always been afraid that one day, Jungkook, his precious, beautiful baby boy, would become a casualty of his general clumsiness. Why did he think he could raise a child?

“Namjoon, calm down. I’m sure he’s not broken. Tell me what happened,” Yoongi asks calmly. The man’s always composed holding Namjoon still like an anchor in the storm. It’s one of the many reasons he trusts the man so much, why Yoongi’s always his first call.

“He was playing, and then the next thing I know I hear him scream, then a crash, then blood. Oh god, Yoongi, so much blood.”

Namjoon looks around, eyes darting in every which direction as he tries to think of the next steps, but his mind is jumbled like a jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces; nothing makes sense as Jungkook whimpers in his arms. He’s a planner. He has a filing cabinet filled with possible scenarios and how to react if by chance they occur, but as he holds the limp bloodied body of his five-year-old close to his chest, he can’t for life of him figure out what to do next.

“Namjoon, breathe in,” Yoongi guides him.

He inhales.

“Good, now breathe out.”

He exhales.

“The doctor, have you called the doctor? The hospital? Yeah, just take him to the hospital. Children’s General is only about five minutes from your house.” Yoongi words turn on the lightbulb above Namjoon’s head that had failed to come on its own prior.

“Right, right…hospital, the hospital,” he repeats Yoongi words as he walks into the foyer and bends over the table, hooking the keys with his pinky as he runs out the front door to the elevator.

“Want me to meet you there? You okay to drive?” He registers the worry in Yoongi’s tone.

“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m good. Yes please, come,” Namjoon begs, and his lips tremble around the reply.

“Okay, I’ll be there. Be careful, Joonie. Keep calm. I’ll be there, okay?” He nods his response then remembers they’re on the phone.

“Okay,” he whispers.

Tears sting the corners of his eyes, and by the time the elevator doors open into the parking garage, streams of hot liquid are streaking down the side of his cheeks and pooling at the clavicle bone protruding from his low-cut collar.

“Appa,” Jungkook’s voice is scratchy. “My head hurts, Appa.” The boy’s turned down lips begin to quiver.

“I know baby. Appa’s sorry, but we’re going to make you feel better really soon, okay?” He hugs his son closer as he walks to the black Mercedes, a gift from the publishing company due to the success of his last book. Namjoon can count the amount of times he’s driven the vehicle on one hand.

The car beeps to life after he hits the button with his thumb. He opens the back door and gently sets Jungkook in the booster seat, securing him with the seat belt. The child's head rolls and falls against the seat back. Blood is running down Jungkook’s temple, and Namjoon wipes at it with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Appa, kiss Kookie’s boo boo,” the little boy whimpers and tugs at Namjoon’s shirt, pulling him down.

Namjoon leans in, kissing the area as gently as possible.

“Better? Huh?”

The child nods his head. Namjoon smiles then immediately panics when Jungkook’s eyes begin to droop. He read somewhere that sleepiness after a head injury could be a symptom of a concussion and that it’s best to keep the injured person awake.

“Kookie-ah, Appa needs you to stay awake, okay? Appa’s afraid to drive this big car by himself. Can you sing Twinkle Twinkle Litte Star for Appa?”

“Appa scared? Kookie will keep you safe. I have bigger muskols now.” Innocent eyes look up at him with concern.

“Appa feels safer already. When did my kookiemonster get so strong?”

“Appa gives me yucky bevetables, because they’re good, and I grow biggerer and strongerer than all the bad things so I can beat them up and keep Appa safe.” He chuckles. Jungkook’s declaration has him feeling somewhat calmer.

He kisses the top of the child's head as he stands up and closes the rear door. He climbs into the front seat, pulls the seatbelt across his lap, and fixes the rearview mirror so he can see Jungkook sitting in the back. The youngster looks like a horror movie character, with blood matted in his hair and trickling down the side of his head and red blotches staining his favorite Ironman t-shirt.

“Ready to sing for Appa?” He sees Jungkook nod in the rearview mirror.

“Appa sings, too.” The little boy giggles and swings his feet

“But Appa’s voice isn’t as sweet as Kookie’s.”

“Appa sing, Appa sing, Appa sing,” Jungkook repeats the phrase until Namjoon relents.

Namjoon’s less frantic by the time they reach the emergency room. Jungkook’s still humming the song when Namjoon lifts him out of the booster seat and carries him through the sliding glass doors.

“Oh my, what have we here?” A female, Namjoon assumes is a nurse, asks as he walks towards the registration desk.

The woman has a kind smile and big bright eyes, and Jungkook giggles shyly when she offers him a balloon-shaped lollipop.

“What do you say when someone gives you a gift?” Namjoon reminds his son gently.

“Thank you,” Jungkook responds quickly

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now, can you tell me where it hurts?” She smiles as she carefully examines the cut on his forehead. Namjoon feels a tinge of pride when Jungkook doesn’t cry or squirm but holds still, letting the nurse check his bump.

“My top head hurts,” Jungkook tells her and points to the base of his forehead.

“Aww, well after the doctor’s finished cleaning it. I have this Ironman band-aid,” she tells the wide-eyed five-year-old, holding the adhesive strip in her hand.  “You do like Ironman, right?” Jungkook nods his head so hard Namjoon’s a bit worried the child will get another headache. “Well, I promise that once the doctor’s all done, we can put Ironman right over your ouchy so he can help make it better. Does that sound like a good plan?”

Jungkook nods again, a little more aggressively than before.

“Good.” She chuckles and hands Namjoon a clipboard with papers to fill out. “Please fill these out as you wait. What’s his first name?”

“Jungkook.” Namjoon watches the woman’s fingers as they coast along the keyboard with ease.

“Family name?”

“Kim.”

“Date of birth?”

“September first, twenty-twelve.”

“Insurance?”

Namjoon nods and shifts Jungkook to his right side so he can rifle through his pant pocket for his wallet. Air is all he feels as he pushes his hand in the slit. He had left the house in such a frenzy he’d forgotten to take up his wallet.

“Shit!” Namjoon exclaims in frustration.

“Appa, that’s a bad word,” Jungkook whispers in his ear.

“Sorry, sweetheart, Appa didn’t mean to use that word.” He turns to look at the nurse who’s trying but failing to hide her amusement at what just transpired. “I’m sorry, I ran out of the house in such a rush I forgot to pick up my wallet,” he apologizes.

“It’s okay. I can do a quick search for the information. I’ll just need your insurance carrier, your date of birth,  your full name, and your national ID number.”

Namjoon quickly gives her all the necessary information. She gestures him to take a seat once she’s able to retrieve all the information required to register Jungkook. By the time Namjoon finally sits, he’s exhausted, mentally and physically. He settles Jungkook on his lap; the child’s happily sucking on his lollipop and swinging his feet as though he’s not covered in blood and still bleeding from his head.

“Does your head still hurt, buddy?” he asks, combing his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, straightening it the best he can.

“A little.” Jungkook’s voice is muffled by the candy in his mouth.

“Aww, it will feel better soo-”

“Mr. Kim and Jungkook?” A voice coming from behind cuts Namjoon off.

“Yes. Here.” He stands up, fixing Jungkook securely in his arms before turning around.

Two things happen when Namjoon turns around. Two things happen, one of which saves him from almost dropping his son on the ground a second time. Long, gangly limbs that seem not to know how to interact with each other make up Namjoon’s body structure. When he was younger, his mother used to liken him to a baby Ostrich. It wasn’t malicious; it was true. He stumbles easily and often times has to consciously concentrate on his actions to keep from tripping over himself. Awkward, it’s the best word to describe him. His penchant to be all arms and legs with no direction is one of the two things that happens when he turns around.

Two things happen when Namjoon turns around. Two things. He doesn’t expect it, the visual shock he receives when he spins with his child in his arms and sees what can only be described as a manga character come to life, and this, this unexpected occurrence, is what leads to the first of the two things. The doctor is the epitome of cold city man all wrapped up in warm skin, shining eyes, and thick, pouty lips. This sudden appearance of illogical beauty is what leads to Jungkook slowly slipping in his grip as his aforementioned limbs forget how to function. Namjoon’s brain forgets to tell his legs to move, his arms to cling, and his mouth to speak. So he stands frozen solid, like an ice statue at a charity event, staring, panicking, and unable to keep his child from sliding down his chest. This lack of dexterity is the first thing of the two things.

“Namjoon,” Yoongi’s calls from behind him, and it’s his salvation.

Two things happen when Namjoon turns around. Two things which, had he been a functioning human, one who could adapt in social situations, one who could admire flawless good looks without being completely overwhelmed by them, had Namjoon just been normal, neither of these two things would have needed to happen. But he’s not, and so they do. Yoongi’s voice breaks through his haze like some goddamn knight in shining armor, riding in on his white horse and saving the awkward as fuck father in distress who’s about to drop his child on the ground because the emergency doctor looks like a cross between Satsuki Shishio and Azuma Yunoki. Yoongi walking in at just the right moment and Jungkook’s excitement at seeing the man are what saves the youngster from yet another tumble. Yoongi coming in just the nick of time (like he always does) is the second thing that happens and the thing that saves Jungkook from further harm.

“Uncle Yoongi!” Jungkook exclaims excitedly as he scrambles like a monkey swinging on a vine from his father’s grasp to Yoongi’s open arms.

“Kookie-ah.” Yoongi hugs the child to his chest. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“I falled down and bumped my head. Then daddy brought me here, and the nice lady gave me a lollipop and said if I was good Ironman would make me better.”  

“Well, I’m not Ironman, but I do what I can,” the manga character speaks once again, and Namjoon remembers how to breathe. “You must be Jungkook?”

Namjoon’s almost at normal functionality by the time manga character, gets Jungkook on the examing table. He marvels at how easily the pediatrician gets the little boy to open up. Jungkook’s usually shy around strangers preferring to hide in Namjoon’s chest or behind his back. Currently, he’s explaining to the kind doctor that he was practicing how to fly by jumping from the chest of drawers to his bed when the ground knocked him down.

“The ground can be a pesky character at times, so rude.” The doctor sounds so earnest Namjoon does a double take to make sure the man is joking. He regrets his decision to glance in the physician’s direction almost immediately— _why is he so damn perfect?_

“It doesn’t seem like anything’s broken,” the doctor says, turning to face Namjoon and Yoongi who’s standing a little behind the man in the white coat. “I still want to run a couple of tests first. An X-ray of his left wrist; he seems to be nursing it, and I want to rule out a fracture. Secondly, while I don’t believe he has a concussion, he’s alert and responsive to all stimuli, I want to get an MRI just to be safe. Is that okay with you?”

For the second time since stepping through the glass doors of the children’s hospital, Namjoon loses his speech. He stares dumbfounded at the tall man with the broad shoulders and kind, gentle eyes, and he’s panicked because the neurons in his brain aren’t firing and he can’t form a proper response to the doctor’s question. He turns to face Yoongi and pleads with his friend silently to answer on his behalf.

“Yes, that will be fine. Whatever you need to do,” Yoongi answers in his stead, and Namjoon is both grateful and embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the doctor says to Namjoon. “I assumed you were his father.”

“He is my Appa,” Jungkook states with a giggle. “He has, uhm, what’s it called again?” The little boy squinches his brows in concentration. “A-floor-a-gobia? He doesn’t like a lot of people,” Jungkook declares as he slurps the juice from his lollipop.

Namjoon smiles awkwardly at the doctor, and he can feel the heat rising from his neck to his ears.

“Ahh, you mean agoraphobia. Wow, I’m very impressed with you for knowing such a big word, Jungkook. I think you deserve another lollipop for that. And…” the doctor begins, looking Namjoon squarely in the eye, “your dad deserves one too,” manga doctor says while ruffling Jungkook’s hair.

“Appa gets a lollipop too?” Jungkook asks, eyes wide with awe.

“Mmm, your dad’s a superhero, brave like Ironman because despite his fear he brought you here,” the doctor explains to Jungkook as he lifts him off the table and gently places him to stand on the ground.

The youngster takes off, sprinting directly into Namjoon’s arms.

“Oh, I know that,” Jungkook declares without hesitation as he tugs at his father’s shirt. Namjoon bends and lifts the child into his arms. “My Appa’s strong and smart and fixes all my ouchies, and, and, and, he reads me stories and makes me hot cocoa when I’m sad.”

It gets him every time, Jungkook’s unconditional love. Namjoon’s not the best father in the world; he’s the first to admit it. He’s plagued by a crippling disease which keeps him locked in his home most of the time. If not for Yoongi, he’d be a complete shut-in, and Jungkook would never see the sun. The little boy loves him in a way that even Namjoon, a writer, a person whose profession it is to draw people in with words, can never seem to describe adequately. Jungkook’s head falls to his shoulder, nestling in the crevasse where it meets his neck. He can hear the child sucking his thumb, and it dawns on him that it’s been a long day for both of them.

The father has been so lost in his thoughts of fondness for his son that he momentarily forgot they were in a hospital. He looks up and finds the manga doctor gazing at him, brows drawn together quizzically as though he’s a puzzle the obscenely handsome pediatrician’s trying to solve.

“Uhm, we don’t have to run the test today,” the doctor says, and Namjoon is thankful because he’s beginning to feel jittery and nervous. He needs to go home and shut his door and lock out the world, “but, I would like you to get them done as soon as possible, tomorrow if you think you’re up to it.”

The way the man says the last statement makes Namjoon feel warm inside. He’s used to being judged when people find out about his illness. He’s grown accustomed to receiving _the look,_ the one that tells him without words that he’s a failure at life and parenthood. He doesn’t sense judgment from the doctor, nor is it sympathy, like he’s a project for the man to fix. What Namjoon senses is understanding, as though the pediatrician can empathize with him. Acceptance, that’s it, that’s what he feels, and it makes him emotional because it’s been so long since another human, apart from Yoongi, has made Namjoon feel normal.

“Uhm, th-thank you,” he stutters out, voice shaky.

“You’re welcome,” the doctor smiles. “Oh, here’s my card. I have a private practice not far from here, and, uhm…” the man turns the card over, writing something on the back before extending it in Namjoon’s direction, “here’s my personal number if, you know, you need help, or, uhm, something.”

It’s the doctor who blushes this time, and despite his growing uneasiness about being away from his home, Namjoon gives the man a dimpled smile as he takes the information from between the man’s crooked fingers. He bows to the man and turns to leave.

“Bye, Jungkook, it was nice meeting you,” the doctor says with a wave.

Namjoon’s sure Jungkook doesn’t respond. He hears the even breathing in his ear and knows the child is asleep.

“You want to leave your car here and ride with me?” Yoongi asks as they walk out the glass doors into the parking garage. “I can have my assistants come pick up it up in the morning.”

Namjoon thinks about saying no, but he’s tired and the thought of driving makes him want to throw up. He nods his reply and climbs into the back seat of Yoongi's BMW, arms clinging tightly around a sleeping Jungkook.

Sighing, Namjoon leans his head against the headrest after arranging Jungkook comfortably on his lap. The child’s head is resting on his chest, sweating slightly with the heat of slumber. He combs his fingers absentmindedly through his son’s hair and lets his mind wander. From his place in the back seat, the back of Yoongi’s head is his scenery when he looks forward. They’ve been friends since middle school, since before Jungkook, when Namjoon was normal.

“Thank you, hyung,” he whispers, and to his surprise, Yoongi hears.

Yoongi always hears.

“You’re welcome, Joon. I’m proud of you, you know? What you did today was brave and selfless.” Yoongi’s words of praise help to soothe the anxiety that has been growing in him ever since he was aware that Jungkook wasn’t in any mortal danger.

“Do you think I’ll ever get over this?” Namjoon muses out loud, to himself mostly.

“I do. I honestly do.”

Namjoon leans his head against the window; the glass is cool against his skin. He digs into his pocket to find the card the handsome doctor had given him. Twirling the card between his fingers, he flips it over. Kim Seokjin, it reads.

_Seokjin_

The name plays over in his mind as he gazes outside, the street lights creating streaks in his vision as the car swiftly passes them. Sighing, he contemplates the thought of calling the doctor. He won't, but thinking about it can’t hurt. He misses his old life, misses not being afraid of people, of the world. Jungkook mutters something unintelligible in his sleep, shifting in Namjoon’s lap, and he’s reminded that he can’t regret the illness either because it brought him Jungkook.

 

_It was the eve of his nineteenth birthday, the first time he saw her. It’s funny the things you remember. She was beautiful... soft skin, innocent smile, long, wavy brown hair shining in the sun. Namjoon was instantly smitten and also too shy to talk to his dream girl. So he just stared, basking in the radiance of her beauty._

_“You know, it’d be way less stalker-like if you just went up and said hi,” Yoongi says from behind him, climbing over the bench to sit beside him._

_“Not sure I agree,” Namjoon responds. “One of two things will happen: either I proceed to verbally throw up all over her in a diatribe of conscious thought that will more than likely make no sense, or I’ll turn into a statue the moment she looks at me. Both are far more destructive to my already bruised teenage ego.”_

_Yoongi looks at him thoughtfully before nodding his head._

_“You’re probably right.”_

_“Jennie Kim is not someone a person like me has the right to approach, much less converse with,” Namjoon informs his friend._

_“I disagree, but I shall not argue.” Yoongi never argues, and Namjoon’s thankful for it._

_“So, you study for the trig test?” he changes the subject._

_He watches in amusement as Yoongi’s eyes grow wide._

_“Fuck, that’s today? Shit, what chapters?”_

_“Uhm, six, seven and the first half of eight.”_

_Yoongi jumps up from beside him, grabbing the backpack he’d carelessly tossed on the grass by his feet earlier._

_“Guess I’ll be skipping first period today. Make sure to take good notes. Find me in the library if you need anything; I won’t be hard to spot. I’ll be the one crying into my trig textbook.” Yoongi bows dramatically before walking away._

_“Good luck, hyung,” Namjoon yells after the older boy at the same moment Jennie walks past him._

_He almost chokes on his words, so stunned to have the girl this close to his general proximity._

_“Morning, oppa.” Is she talking to me? Namjoon turns around fully expecting to see a buff jock standing behind him waving at the girl. But nope, no one._

_“Uhm, morning,” he responds, and it’s awkward._

_Jennie giggles cutely as she walks away._

 

“We’re here,” Yoongi’s voice breaks through the memory.

Namjoon thinks the disruption is for the best. He puts Jennie Kim where she belongs, in his past. Tucking Jungkook safely in his arms, he climbs out of the car.

“You need me to come in?”

“No, it’s okay. I have it from here. Thank you again, for everything, hyung.”

Yoongi smiles and pats him on the shoulder before getting back into the car.

He walks inside shutting the door behind him, turning the latch securely, locking out the noisy world.

 

 ****

 

Jin can't stop thinking about Namjoon. The dimpled smile the man graced him with has been haunting him for the last two weeks. Since giving the single father his number, his phone has become his closest companion. Jin's a doctor; he knows Namjoon’s illness will more than likely prevent him from using the information, but that hasn't stopped Jin from hoping every beep and notification is from the tall, lanky man with the unkempt blonde hair and nervous, shy eyes.

They never are.

"Appa, can I have ice cream?" Taehyung's squeaky voice comes from the living room.

"Sure, you can-"

"Yay!" Taehyung's shout of joy cuts his sentence short.

"But," Jin continues and can almost see Taehyung's countenance fall from his place in the kitchen, "you have to have dinner first."

"Okay." The child's response is far less jubilant than it had been previously.

"Speaking of which, go wash up, okay?"

He chuckles to himself at the sound of Taehyung's socked feet stomping on the tile as he runs down the hall to the bathroom. Jin feels light; it's been a while since he's been able to have dinner with Taehyung, much less cook it himself. He cherishes these moments. Taehyung comes tumbling down the hall a few moments later, and Jin has suspicions about the thoroughness of the handwashing.

Taehyung chatters through most of the dinner, regaling his father with stories about school and his teacher Ms. Wang. When the child finally quiets down, Jin decides to extend the conversation.

"Tae, how's Heentsyhotsy?" The little boy hasn't spoken of his imaginary friend in a while, and Jin has been curious as to why.

"Oh." Taehyung worries his lips. "Well... she's in jail," he declares nonchalantly before popping a carrot into his mouth.

"JAIL!" Jin says too loudly, and Taehyung looks up in surprise. The response has caught the father off guard. "Uhm, why's she in jail?" This time around he controls his tone.

"She said she didn't know that it's not okay to kill her girlfriend."

"What are they teaching you in school?"

"Numbers," Taehyung's response is immediate.

Despite the million and one things wrong with the conversation he's having with his son, Jin chuckles at the child's answer.

People don't see it, the thousands of insecurities hidden behind Jin's good looks and over the top personality. To the untrained eye, he appears confident, some might even venture to say arrogant. Those that know him, however, are aware of the truth, which is that behind his well-crafted bravado, he's  scared of failing. Taehyung’s turned his knife and fork into superheroes who must save the mashed potatoes from the cave of suffering, which Jin assumes is the child's mouth. He worries every day that he’s not doing things right, that he’s a bad father, not home enough, not spending enough time with Taehyung.

Jin was in his first year of medical school when he met and fell in love with Inna; he was an intern when they were married. Taehyung was conceived the night he graduated from medical school and born during his residency. When Taehyung was two, Jin became a single parent when Inna, a cop, was killed in the line of duty. He tried his best to shield his young child from the media frenzy that followed. The talk with his son has Jin completely shaken, and he worries that he didn’t do enough to shelter his child. Looking at Taehyung, he wonders if it's a sign, if this is the residual effect of having a lost a parent at such a young age. Taehyung’s five, _five._ He loves puppies and ice cream and cries when Jin has to kill the random bug that makes its way into their home, so why? Why is his child’s imaginary friend a murderer?

He clears the table after they finish eating and Taehyung runs off to the living room to continue playing.

Taehyung’s sitting crossed-legged on the floor creating what looks like a highrise out of Legos.

“Tae, Appa needs to make a phone call, okay? I’ll be right here in the kitchen if you need me,” he informs the child, pointing to his right.

“Mmm, okay, Appa,” Taehyung answers without looking up.

Grabbing his phone from the table, he makes his way into the kitchen. He dials the number as he sits on the black stool in front of the Island.

“Hey, hyung,” Hoseok answers the phone too cheerily.

“My child’s imaginary friend’s in jail for murder. I’m a failure as a parent.”

“I’m sorry, what? Who’s in jail for murder?” Hoseok sounds confused. Under normal circumstances, Jin would find the perplexed tone funny, but none of what he’s feeling at the moment is humorous.

“Tae’s imaginary friend, Heentsyhotsy. Apparently she didn’t know it was wrong to kill her girlfriend.”

“Your child’s imaginary friend is a lesbian?”

“This is what you find most disturbing, not the fact that my child has befriended an imaginary murderer?” Jin questions incredulously.

“You do know she’s not real, right? Plus, she’s in jail, so barring some form of imaginary prison break, Tae’s safe for now.”

Jin sighs and slumps against the refrigerator. He knows Hoseok’s just trying to make light of the situation. It’s the man’s nature to find the silver lining.

“Hoseok, I’m serious. Why would he make her a killer? Do... do you think it has anything to do with Inna’s death? Did I not do enough to shield my child from his mother’s murder? Is he scarred for life?”

“Hyung, Taetae was two when it happened. The chances of him remembering, much less understanding what was happening, are slim to none. This Hennypennysticky—“

“Heentsyhosty,” Jin corrects, cutting Hoseok off.

“Whatever, her name is too fucking hard to pronounce. What you should be worried about are the names of your future grandchildren, but I digress. Look, by next week Taehyung would have forgotten she was incarcerated, and she’ll be the queen of Mars, eating ice cream served to her by the Sun.”

“That makes no sense, how would the Sun serve anyone ice crea-“ Jin doesn’t finish the thought.

Hoseok’s laughter on the other end of the phone has him grimacing.

“Jin, stop worrying so much. You’re an amazing father. Taehyung’s a smart, adorable, well-rounded, well-adjusted kid. I wouldn’t allow my precious Jimin, heir to the Jung throne, to be friends with anyone who wasn’t.”

Hoseok’s right, of course. A small part of Jin knows he’s overreacting, knows he’s stretching, looking for a reason beyond himself to satiate the guilt he feels for being so busy all the time.

“How’s our precious Jimin?” he queries. Jimin is Hoseok’s favorite topic of conversation.

“My beautiful boy is doing fabulous.” Hoseok’s response is exuberant, and Jin chuckles at his friend’s dramatic nature. “So, did the dimpled god bring his child back?”

He’d forgotten about Namjoon, and more importantly, forgotten that he’d told Hoseok about Namjoon.

“Well, his adorable son did come in to do the tests I ordered. I read the results today and copied them over to his regular pediatrician. I doubt Namjoon’s the one that brought him though.”

Disappointment tugs at his core, and he sighs into the phone. Jin’s aware that his chances of seeing the duo again are dismal, but it doesn’t stop him from continuing to hope. It’s been so long since anyone’s peaked his interest, male or female. The tall, lanky man with the dimpled cheeks is a fascinating creature, one part nervous nelly and one part overcomer of fears (when it comes to the people he loves). Jin’s had experience dealing with phobias; he’s acutely aware of the wall of fear Namjoon had to climb over to bring Jungkook to the emergency room. He admires the man’s courage and wants a chance to get to know him better. A part of him hopes Jungkook needs another pediatric visit while all the other parts of him yell in disgust at his selfish desire.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? I doubt our paths will cross again,” Jin muses, mostly to himself.

“Miracles happen every day. I mean, I’m your friend, so clearly it’s true.” Hoseok’s joke lightens his mood.

“Or, curses happen every day. It’s all about perspective,” Jin counters and laughs outright as Hoseok protests. “I gotta go. I left Taehyung alone in the living room. The last time I did that, he somehow managed to lock every door of every room in the house from the inside, and it took three hours and a two hundred dollar locksmith bill before I could pee.”

They hang up the phone, and Jin trots in the living room, joining Taehyung on the floor. Three hours later, after creating and destroying the world’s most colorful Lego city, three bedtime stories, and two glasses of water, Taehyung’s finally tired enough for sleep. Jin’s cotched on the edge of Taehyung’s bed, and the child’s curled into his chest, eyes drooping as the youngster tries to fight the slumber pulling at him.

“I love you the best, Appa,” Taehyung declares sleepily.

“I love you the best too, Tae.”

The sound of Taehyung’s even breathing hits his ear, and he breathes a sigh of relief, not because Taehyung’s asleep, but because Hoseok’s right. Taehyung’s fine, just fine.

 

 ****

Namjoon has bad days and not so bad days. What Namjoon hasn’t had since “the incident” two days after Jungkook turned two, is a good day. Worry is normal; all people worry. Some studies suggest even animals have moments of anxiety. However, when that fear keeps you from interacting with the world, when you find all manner of excuses to not leave the sanctity of your home because you’re frightened you might get trapped, then your problem is bigger than just being a little anxious. This is the explanation the doctor had given Namjoon the night they admitted him to the hospital.

Namjoon has bad days and not so bad days. That day, the day it all fell apart, was the worst of all days. Looking back, he should have seen it coming, he guesses; but hindsight is twenty-twenty, foresight, unfortunately, is not. When Jennie told him she was pregnant, Namjoon knew he wasn’t the father (that would have required them having sex). He had a panic attack. The attack wasn’t major, just a bout of anxiety mixed with sadness that the love of his life was sleeping with someone who wasn’t him. He wasn’t angry about it; he didn’t have the right to be. They weren’t a couple—just friends.

The next time he found himself frazzled beyond all logic was the day Jennie came to him crying hysterically.

_“He doesn’t love me, Namjoon. He told me he doesn’t want the baby.” Tears mixing with her mascara cause black streaks down her face. Despite it all, Namjoon thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world._

Sitting on the floor with Jennie’s head on his shoulder, her voice cracked as she told him that she had to abort the baby, _“I can’t raise a child. I’m barely an adult_.” That night, she cried in his arms and fell asleep in his bed. If Namjoon were Charles Dickens, he would have described Jennie asleep, nestled to his chest, as the best of times and the worst of times.

He woke alone.

Jennie left a note.

_Why couldn’t it have been you?_

Namjoon cried until he couldn’t breathe, until he was doubled over and curled into himself. It was how Yoongi found him. The doctor said it was an anxiety attack, told them it was nothing to worry about—the doctor was wrong.

Namjoon has bad days and not so bad days, and today, today’s a bad day, possibly beating “the incident” for the worst day ever.

“Namjoon, are you listening to me?” Yoongi’s yelling on the other end of the line. “I need you not to lose it, okay? Because I’m human too,” the older man rambles nervously on the phone.

Namjoon knows Yoongi’s right; he needs to gain control of his nerves, of his breathing, of his fucking life, but Yoongi has just told him that he can't find Jungkook. Yoongi arrived at the child’s elementary school, at the designated pick up site, and Jungkook’s nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry, Namjoon. I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi sounds like he’s close to tears, and it rips at Namjoon’s core because he doesn’t have the strength to comfort his friend, to tell him he hasn’t done anything wrong. Words aren’t coming, and the four walls of his spacious pent house apartment are closing in on him. Jungkook, he can’t lose Jungkook; he won’t survive. Namjoon takes a jagged breath and leans his back against the wall before slowly sliding to the ground with feet extended in front of him, the phone pressed against his ear. He can hear Yoongi frantically talking to a school personnel who sounds equally as bewildered as his friend.

Beeping on the line signals another call, and Namjoon contemplates not looking, too afraid that he’ll miss something important, but habit wins over fear and he glances at the screen. He recognizes the number as Jungkook’s school and immediately answers the call, leaving Yoongi yelling on the other line.

“Hello, Namjoon-sshi.” Namjoon recognizes the voice as that of Jungkook’s principal. “This is Principal Lee. There’s been an incident, and we need you to come to the school. Jungkook’s in my office, and he’s safe--” Namjoon thinks the man should have lead with that.

“C-can I talk to him?” _Bless the Lord almighty, words_.

“Appa? Appa, Tae’s daddy’s nice. He doctored me and gave me lollipop and you too. Tae says we’re brothers cause we have the same last name, is that true? Can Tae come over? Pleeease?”

Namjoon listens intently to Jungkook, _intently,_ like every mismatched bit of verbiage were the child’s first words.  An errant tear slithers down his cheek, and relief floods his soul. The burden that he had staggered under previously has grown lighter, and air is slowly making its way back into his lungs.

“Kookie-ah, are you okay, sweetie?”

“Uh-huh, and, and, and Appa, I got another lollipop from the lady at the office for being a good boy.” Jungkook’s excited tone has the shackles of worry which had Namjoon bound falling away.

“Mr. Kim, we’re sorry to have to do this--ahh, Mr. Min has just come into the office,” the principal informs him as he places Namjoon on hold to address a very frazzled Yoongi.

Namjoon can hear his friend calling out to Jungkook over the phone, can hear the relief in Yoongi’s voice, and he smiles despite the situation. Jungkook’s fine, Yoongi’s fine, he can breathe.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Kim,” the principal apologizes once back on the line. “I’m sorry to have to ask you this, given your medical situation, but because of the security breach, we’ll need you to come and sign Jungkook out personally. I kno-“

“It’s you!” Namjoon hears Yoongi exclaim on the line, cutting the principal off.

Namjoon hears a voice respond, but the background clatter is too much for him to recognize the owner of the voice.

“Mr. Kim, did you hear what I just asked?” Mr. Lee questions.

“I’m sorry, I was preoccupied. Do you mind repeating?”

“Ahh, yes. We’ll need you to come and pick Jungkook up in person,” the man restates.

Anxious thoughts meander about and crisscross in Namjoon’s brain, his heart is pounding loudly in his chest, and he can hear each thump distinctly.

“C-come in person?” The words stutter out his mouth and hurt his ears.

Namjoon has bad days and not so bad days, and today is hell.

Agoraphobia is a slimy, bottomless pit, and once you fall in, you tend to go deeper and deeper into the mire. Right now Namjoon’s waist deep in the quicksand of despair. He’s been staring at his front door, car keys in hand for the last fifteen minutes, wondering how, when, and if he’ll walk past the threshold. Logically he knows he has to if he wants to bring his son home, but emotionally there’s a war (which he normally loses) going on.

Principal Lee, who has been very understanding of Namjoon’s particular situation up until this point, was very clear; they would not be releasing Jungkook to Yoongi, despite Namjoon’s pleas for mercy. He needs to leave. It’s simple really. All he has to do is walk through the doors, take the elevator to the garage, get in his car, and pick up his child. However, in Namjoon’s mind, that particular scenario translates to ready your battle stations and prepare for a bloodbath.

Reaching a shaking hand forward, he grabs hold of the door knob and takes a moment to catch his breath before turning the handle. The door squeaks to life as it opens under Namjoon’s pull, and he’s startled by the sudden entrance of light hitting his eyes from the large bay window in the shared hallway.

“Well, the door’s open. Now what?” Namjoon questions himself as he struggles to step into the brightly lit hall.

He knows the answer, of course. Time’s ticking away, reminding Namjoon that life’s passing by as he stands in the rectangular door frame contemplating his next steps, literally.

His phone buzzes in his palm.

**_From: kumamongi_ **

_You’re standing at the door_

_Aren’t you?_

_Namjoon nods._

**_From: kumamongi_ **

_Take a deep breath_

_Then take a step_

_You can do this Joon_

 

Namjoon closes his eyes and takes a huge gulp of air. He steps forward. One step, then two, then three, until he’s officially out of the house and in the hallway.

 

**_From: kumamongi_ **

_Are you out?_

 

He nods.

 

**_From: kumamongi_ **

_Good._

 

_Yes good._

Yoongi always knows. Even when Namjoon can’t respond, doesn’t verbalize, Yoongi just always knows.

Namjoon walks carefully to the elevator, almost tiptoeing as not to alert the world to his presence. _I’m fine. It’s fine, I’m good, it’s all good._ He repeats the mantra in his head, hoping the positive words will stick. It almost works. _Almost._ As he stands waiting for the elevators doors to open, he hears the sound of a lock turning behind him, and his breath hitches.

God and Namjoon have become friends since the entrance of the disease; he prays silently that the door will stay closed until he has the chance to escape into the confines of the lift. His heart pounds against his chest, loud, erratic, like a bass drum being played by a toddler. People are talking behind him some distance down the hall. Namjoon pushes the button to the metal box several times, fast and furiously, silently pleading with the silver doors to grant him access.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, no—please no,” he whispers under his breath.

He can feel it coming; it’s a wave floating swiftly to Namjoon’s shore. Sweat pools along his hairline, trickling down his face. His hands are trembling as he jams his pointer finger into the button several more times. He feels cold, dizzy, and nauseous, and there’s a lump building in his throat, making it hard to swallow. The apartment door closes with a soft thud, voices flood the hallway behind him, and Namjoon takes his final steps into the rabbit hole of fear.

Panic is rising, filling him slowly, like a beaker in a science class; he closes his eyes trying to focus on anything that isn’t the voices getting closer and closer to his general locale. Fear grips him, wrapping itself around him like a snake. He struggles to fight against the tears that are pooling at the corners of his eyes and holds his breath to keep from screaming. Just when he thinks all hope is lost, that he’s not going to make it, that he’s going to dissolve into a puddle of crying mush in front of his neighbors, who probably already think he’s crazy... at the perfect time, God hears his cry for help, and the doors to the elevator give way. Namjoon escapes inside the four walls of the solid metal crate, hitting the close button and sighing in relief when the elevator obeys almost instantly, locking him in and shutting the world out. Slumping against the mirrored wall, he tries to catch his breath. A hand against his chest reminds him he’s still alive. He can feel the rhythmic beats of his heart thumping wildly against his palm. He needs to calm down and find his center; Jungkook needs him.

The car is a sanctuary, shielding Namjoon from the outside world. Windows up, doors locked, and air conditioning on, he’s the driver, and although logically he knows it’s not real, he feels some semblance of control. Two hours after Yoongi's terrifying call, Namjoon pulls into the parking lot of Bangtan Elementary. Ironically, he had chosen the school for security reasons. He parks the car and takes a gulp of air, inhaling it deep into his lungs. Taking a moment to gather himself, Namjoon finally feels steady enough to exit the vehicle.

It’s quiet as he makes he way toward the burnt brick building. Namjoon likes the rustic feel the color gives off. Pulling open the door, he steps into an eerily quiet hallway. The last time he walked this hall it was noisy and alive with the scamper of little feet and excited chatter. He prefers the silence. At the door of the principal's office, Namjoon takes a moment before opening the door. It has been a fight even to get this far, and he needs a wee bit of time to gather himself before walking inside. He combs his fingers through his hair and straightens the wrinkles in his black Stussy t-shirt, and once he feels composed enough, he opens the door and steps inside.

“Appa!” Jungkook barrels into him like a freight train at full speed, almost knocking him over.

“Kook-ah, are you okay?” he asks as he kneels to the child’s level, bear-hugging him.

After a few seconds, he can feel the youngster struggling in his grasps, but Namjoon’s not ready to let go. He needs this.

“I love you, Kookie,” he whispers into his son’s ear.

“I love you too, Appa.” Jungkook’s response is muffled with his faced pressed into his father’s chest.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Kim,” Principal Lee starts, and Namjoon forces himself to release Jungkook from his grasp. “I know this must have been difficult for you.”

“Yes.” It's all he can say for the moment.

“I’m so sorry about this,” a voice to the left of Namjoon apologizes. The tone strikes a chord with Namjoon; he’s heard it somewhere before. “I-I, Taehyung just…” the voice sighs, and Namjoon can feel the owner’s struggle to explain.

Namjoon turns around to face the apologetic tone and instantly wishes he’d taken a moment to center himself. He’s not sure who he expected to see. A man for sure, just not this particular man. Kim Seokjin is just as striking now as he was when Namjoon had taken Jungkook to the emergency room a couple of weeks back. Dumbfounded is how he feels, and yet again he finds himself unable to form proper sentences. As he stares at the anxiety stricken doctor who’s currently worrying his fingers, he feels empathy. There’s a child with the sharpest features Namjoon’s ever seen in the man’s lap. The little boy’s a mixture of mythological beauty and child like innocence, and Namjoon doesn’t need any guesses to know who the father is.

“Jungkook’s my brother, right Appa?” The little boy looks at his father with questioning eyes, and Namjoon can’t help but chuckle over the doctor’s perplexed expression.

“Sweetie, Appa told you already, Jungkook’s not related to us. He just has the same last name.”

As Seokjin explains to his child why Jungkook can’t live with them, it surprises Namjoon how clearly he can hear the tiredness in the doctor’s tone. Maybe he notices because he’s felt this way so many times, drained and unable to give anymore but needing to anyway. 

“It’s fine,” he says (it’s not really). “Jungkook’s safe, and there doesn’t seem to be any residual effects, other than he wants Taehyung—is that your son’s name?”

Seokjin nods.

“…he wants Taehyung to visit.” Namjoon wonders why he added that. He doesn’t do house guests.

There’s surprise in Seokjin’s eyes when he looks up, locking their gazes. A nervous tickle begins trailing up his insides, and Namjoon as to look away and remind himself to breathe.

“Well, I’m glad that's settled,” the principal interjects. “Mr. Kim,” both Seokjin and Namjoon respond. Clearing his throat Principal Lee tries again, “Kim Namjoon-sshi, if you wouldn’t mind signing this paperwork, it’s just stating that Jungkook’s fine and that you won’t be seeking any recompense from the school. You’ll be free to go after.”

The principal motions Namjoon to his desk, and he takes a seat and reads over the papers before adding his signature. Handing the signed sheets back to the man, he waits as the secretary makes a photocopy. A few minutes later an attractive female with a lovely smile gives him his copies with a bow. Namjoon had managed to lock out everything around him as he dealt with the documents, so it’s a bit of a shock when he turns around to find four sets of eyes all focused on him.

Focusing his own eyes on Jungkook, Namjoon stretches out his hand in the little boy’s direction. Jungkook for his parts trots over to his father, fitting his tiny hand into Namjoon’s palm. Namjoon bows to Seokjin and offers him what he hopes looks like a smile before turning to face Yoongi, who’s been unusually quiet during the entire escapade.

“Want to leave your car and ride with me?” Yoongi offers.

Namjoon nods.

They all walk out together. The adults are quiet, Taehyung and Jungkook, however, are having an animated conversation about having the same last name.

“My uncle Hoseok said that people with the same last name are family,” Taehyung states adamantly.

“My daddy said that our neighbor Mr. Kim isn’t relaytable to us, though. Isn’t that true, Appa?”

“It’s related, sweetie, not relaytable, and no, Jongin is not a part of our family?” Namjoon answers.

“But I want you to be my brother.” Taehyung’s tiny voice cracks and Namjoon feels it in his soul.

“Look,” Seokjin suddenly speaks up, and Namjoon freezes. “I know this isn’t ideal. My child basically kidnapped yours, but if you think you can handle it, would you be up for a play date? Taehyung’s not a bad kid, I swear, even if the current circumstances suggest otherwise.”

Yoongi replies on Namjoon’s behalf.

“This has all been a little overwhelming. Do you mind giving us some time to respond? I’m sure Jungkook would love to spend time with Taehyung, I mean he asked me no less than fifty times if Taehyung could come over as we waited in the office, but right now, I think Joon needs some time to process and formulate a plan before he answers.”

It’s silent for a few moments, and Namjoon sincerely hopes that Seokjin wasn’t offended.

“I get that. You have my card; contact me when you have made a decision. Again, Namjoon-sshi, I’m very sorry about this. I will explain clearly to Taehyung and ensure that this doesn’t happen again.”

With that, the doctor bows to him and Yoongi, then leads Taehyung to the car.

“Bye Kookie,” the little boy chirps cheerfully as he follows his father.

“Bye Tae,” Jungkook waves.

Namjoon watches quietly as the duo drive away; he feels a mixture of relief and sadness at the sight.

“You okay?” Yoongi’s voice pulls him to the present.

“Mmm, I’m better now. I’m just happy that Jungkook’s safe. Kookie, never do that again,” Namjoon reprimands as he kneels to the child’s level. “Uncle Yoongi and I were so worried. We didn’t know where you were or if something bad happened. Never get into another person’s car unless Uncle Yoongi or I give you permission, understand?”

“Sorry Appa,” Jungkook pouts.

“It’s okay.” It’s not, not really. He pulls Jungkook into his arms.

“Okay, I don’t know about you two, but I need ice cream,” Yoongi blurts out suddenly.

“Yay! Ice cream. Can I get strawberry with sprinkles?” Jungkook requests, and Namjoon nods.

“I’ll run in and get it. You won’t have to get out of the car,” Yoongi adds, knowing Namjoon would have apprehensions.

He nods. The drive is calming, Jungkook nestled in the crook of his arm, playing games on his phone, and giggling at whatever is happening on the screen. This is the second time in two weeks that Namjoon has left his house unplanned. It’s been overwhelming, but he has survived both instances. There’s a certain sense of pride that wells up in him at the realization. Two years ago, he wouldn’t have been able to do what he’d done today. Maybe there is hope, a light at the end of what has been a pitch black tunnel. His mind drifts to the one single thread that has connected the last two events, Kim Seokjin.

Namjoon’s not into men, at least he doesn’t believe he is. He loved Jennie for many years and was devasted when she didn’t reciprocate his feelings. It’s not that he’s attracted to the doctor, but in many ways, the man’s illogical good looks and seemingly charismatic demeanor remind him of Jennie. Perhaps that explains why he finds the man so distracting. He mulls over the idea of a play date. Jungkook has never requested to bring a friend home before, and a part of Namjoon knows it’s because of him. Not because Jungkook’s embarrassed in any way, but even at his tender age Jungkook has been conditioned to know that his father wouldn’t be able to handle people in their home. The thought saddens him; he’s unknowingly taken away one of Jungkook’s childhood rights.

“Hyung,” he calls out to Yoongi from his place in the backseat.

“Mmm,” the man responds.

“Let’s do it, the play date.”

“Really? You sure you don’t want more time to think about it?”

He feels Jungkook shift against him and hears the catch of surprise in his son’s throat, and it’s enough to strengthen his resolve.

“I’m sure. I want Jungkook to have a normal childhood, you know. It’s not fair to him. I have one favor though, can you be there too? You know, just in case I can’t handle it?” he begs.

“Of course. You don’t even have to ask; I had already planned on it.”

He smiles because, again, Yoongi just knows.

 

**Three hours and thirty-five minutes prior**

Jin’s day has been rough. Waking Taehyung up this morning was a struggle; the child was an immovable rock, refusing to wake up, and thus made Jin late for work. It seems as though someone opened a flood gate of crazy parents who all believe their child is the most important. The final straw came when four-year-old Mia emptied the contents of her stomach all down the front of his Gucci shirt, his favorite one, mere minutes before he had to leave to pick up Taehyung.

He leaves to pick up his son smelling like spoiled leftovers and feeling like he wants to sleep for a year. He arrives some twenty minutes later more frazzled than when he left, having spent the entire drive arguing with a pushy nurse.

Jin hears the door shut as Taehyung enters the car.

“Hey, make sure to buckle up, okay buddy?” Jin reminds the little boy as he continues his conversation with a very determined woman wanting him to order medication for a patient.

“Okay, Appa. You too okay?” He assumes Taehyung’s speaking to him.

“…no, I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to my child. I want to examine the patient myself before I make a decision on giving a seven-year-old prescription pain meds. Yes, I understand that he’s hurting, but right now, over the counter children’s Motrin is all I’m allowing,” Jin responds.

Turning the key in the ignition, he puts the call on bluetooth and pulls out of the parking spot. Winning the battle with the nurse, he disconnects the call and gives driving his full attention.

“How was school today, Tae?”

“Good.” Jin’s taken aback by the response as Taehyung’s not the one-word answer type.

 “Something happen at school today?”

There’s a moment of silence.

“No, Appa,” another brief reply.

Jin’s raises a hand toward the review mirror, about to fix it so he can look at Taehyung in the back seat, when…

“Are you taking me home, too?” a voice not his son’s questions from the back seat.

 

**Five hours prior**

Taehyung’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for. His random actions, for the most part, have very logical reasons. There was the time he rearranged all the desks and chairs in his classroom, having snuck back in at recess, sending the room into mass chaos when his classmates returned. When questioned later by his teacher he explained he was making a clear path for Mina, a student bound to a wheelchair due to an accident which had left her without the use of her legs.

Taehyung’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for, but at the end of the day, he’s just a precocious five-year-old, no matter how wise beyond his years many of his actions may seem.

“But I dun wanna have a new seatmate,” Taehyung cries, wiping at the tears falling down his face.

“Jimin will be behind you, Taehyung-ah,” the teacher calmly explains. “See, just right there.”

“But, but behind is not the same as beside,” he counters.

“I understand that sweetheart. You are very right, beside and behind are not the same, but we’re doing something new. You like new things, right?”

Taehyung nods. He does, but he doesn’t like this new thing.

“Well, now we’re sitting in alphabetical order. Jungkook’s last name is Kim as well. You like Jungkook, right?” Taehyung nods. “You wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings, right?” He shakes his head.

“We have the same last name?” Taehyung peeks through teary lashes at Jungkook who looks like he’s about to cry as well.

“Yes, won’t it be fun to have someone with the same last name beside you?” the Teacher asks him.

“I guess, but, but, Jimin will be right behind me, and I can still be his bestest friend?” His teacher smiles, and Taehyung’s confused because he doesn’t think he made a funny.

“Taehyung-ah, you and Jimin will be best friends for all eternity, no matter where he sits in the classroom.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” the woman replies warmly, linking their pinkies together.

“Okay. Jimin, we’re going to be friends forever, all right?” An equally teary-eyed Jimin nods from beside him.

The teacher puts Jungkook’s text books on the shared desk as she helps the younger boy into the seat next to Taehyung. After Jungkook is situated, the teacher then helps Jimin into his desk, and Taehyung decides the distance between them isn’t that far after all. He’s able to lean back and touch Jimin’s hand; Jimin smiles at the contact, and Taehyung feels happy.

“You wanna share my crayons with me?” he asks Jungkook. “My Appa bought me a new set; these won’t hurt your stomach if you accidentally eat them.” He pushes the box in the center so Jungkook can reach them.

“Thank you.”

“My last name is Kim, is your’s Kim too?” Taehyung remembers Ms. Wang saying they had the same family name.

“Mmm, Kim Jungkook. My Appa is Kim Namjoon, and he writes stories, and we live in a house on the highest floor, and you can see the moon at night. I tried to touch it once, but my daddy screamed and told me not to get on the railing, so I haven’t touched the moon yet.” Taehyung shakes his head, as Jungkook continues to talk.

“I want to touch the moon too,” Taehyung says wistfully. “Wait, are you, my brother?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But, but we have the same last name, but Jimin’s last name is different, uncle Hobi said we’re not relaytabled. So you’re my brother.”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s confirmation is all Taehyung needs.

Taehyung’s a lot smarter than people give him credit for. There’s always a logical (five-year-old logic, but logic nonetheless) reason for his seemingly random behavior. Brothers should live together is, of course, the next thought that floats into Taehyung’s overactive mind. And this, this is how five-year-old Jungkook ends up in Taehyung’s car after school, happily kicking his feet against the back of Taehyung’s father's seat.

“Taehyung-ah, who is this? Wait, Jungkook?” Taehyung’s eyes widen when he father says Jungkook’s name.

“Appa, you know Kookie? He’s my brother. Ms. Wang said we have the same last name, and brothers live in the same house, and-”

“Tae, did, did, did-” his father cuts him off but doesn’t finish his sentence.

“Did I what, Appa?” Taehyung’s confused by the expression on his father’s face. It’s not the happiness he expected because he found his brother, but it’s not anger either. It reminds Taehyung of how he feels when he wants to poop but can’t.

“Taehyung, does Jungkook’s Appa know he’s coming home with you?” His father’s voice sounds as strange as the look on his face.

“But we have the same last name, just like you Appa.” Taehyung doesn’t understand the question.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god--Jungkook and your dad has—oh my god. Taehyung what did you do?”

Taehyung decides against saying he found his brother, once again. It doesn’t seem to be the right answer.

“Is your Appa okay?” Jungkook leans in, whispering the question.

Taehyung shrugs.

“Dunno, maybe he’s not feeling good.”,

“Okay, we’re going back to school, right now,” his father says suddenly. Jungkook and Taehyung jump startled by the volume of the man’s voice. “Your father’s probably freaking out. Taehyung, of all the children you could have stolen, you chose Jungkook?”

“But it’s not stealing, Appa; we have the same name.”

 

 ****

Jin sighs, remembering the events of the day. His bed has never been as inviting as it is right now. He’s exhausted. Trying to explain to his five-year-old why kidnapping is wrong is harder work than he thought. In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have told the youngster that he could go to prison for his actions because, well, that just lead to one solid hour of crying (he timed it) with Taehyung screaming that he doesn’t want to be crimianimal.

This day has been the longest of Jin’s life. Yet he’s smiling thinking about the expression on Namjoon’s face when he realized he was in the room with him. It’s unnerving, the effect the single father has on him; there’s something so vulnerable about the man, something magnetic that draws Jin in every time the tall blond is around. Or he just needs to get laid, and Namjoon’s his scapegoat. He hopes it’s the latter of the two.

Uncontrollable laughter bubbles up in his chest when he thinks about the look Taehyung gave him as he explained that Jungkook had the same last name as them. The youngster definitely keeps him on his toes. His shoulders are shaking, and tears pool at his eyes he places a hand over his mouth to muffle the cackles that are trying to escape as he recalls his and Taehyung’s conversation.

_"But. But Jungkook said okay.” Taehyung looks so serious, like in his little mind, he sees Jin as the crazy one for not understanding._

_He tries not to laugh. He doesn’t want to hurt Taehyung’s feelings._

_“Honey, I get that, but that still doesn’t mean you can take him home with you.” He tries but fails to make Taehyung understand._

_“But we have the same name, and uncle Hobi said we’re relaytable.”_

_“Related?”_

_“Yes that, relaytabled,” Taehyung repeats his mistake, and this time Jin does laugh._

_He lets the argument die when Taehyung’s bottom lip juts out and his nose turns red. Sometimes he forgets that Taehyung’s only five. He pulls his son in arms._

_“Maybe Jungkook’s dad will say yes to the play date, then you and Jungkook can spend some time together, okay?” He’s not sure if this is the right thing to say, but he doesn’t want Taehyung to start crying again._

_“Can Jimin come too?” Taehyung begs, voice cracking around the question._

_“Sure, if uncle Hobi says it’s okay.”_

Lying in his bed, unable to sleep, Jin wonders if Namjoon will agree to the request. Turning his head a little to the right, a wayward groan escapes when he notices the time on the clock. The LCD display reads 1:04 AM in neon green. He needs to get up in four hours. Pulling the covers over his head, he reaches his hand out, pulling the chain of the stained glass lap sitting on the night table next to his bed. Rolling around, cocooning himself in the blankets, he sighs loudly and the sound echoes through his sheets.

“Go to sleep Jin; all your worries will still be there tomorrow,” he tells himself, closing his eyes.

 

 

 ****

“No mother, we’ve had this discussion.” Hoseok tries to keep the anger building inside out of his tone; the last thing he needs is a guilt trip from the woman. “The answer is no. Jimin is five and my son, not yours.”

“You’re being unreasonable, Hoseok. Jimin’s the heir to Jung Enterprises. Your father and I should have a say in how he’s raised,” his mother argues.

For a brief moment, he contemplates tossing his phone in the river of the park where he and Jimin are. Jimin likes the jungle gym, and Hoseok likes the normalcy of it all. Here he’s not Jung Hoseok, heir to a throne that he does not want. Here he’s Jimin’s dad. Jimin’s _hot_ dad according to many of single mothers and nannies.

“I'm not unreasonable, and Jimin’s not the heir to Jung Enterprises. Jimin’s my five-year-old son who loves puppies, parks, and me. I will not have you turning him into some emotionless drone who lives to do your bidding.” His mother makes a remark that Hoseok doesn’t hear, he’s so blinded by his rage. “You don’t want to start this war with me, mother. Remember I’ve learned from the best, you and dad. I won’t lose, and if you continue to push me on the matter, I’ll make sure the next time you see Jimin he’s a college graduate.”

He disconnects the call and looks at the river one more time before dropping the phone in the pocket of his oversized blue/gray cardigan.

“Jimin-ah, it’s time to go,” he yells out across the park.

“Nae,” the little boy responds as he comes barreling down the path in Hoseok’s direction. “Appa, Appa, Appa,” Jimin calls, out of breath. “Can’t we stay longer? I wanna play s’more.”

“Minnie, we’ve been here for an hour. It’s starting to get dark, and tomorrow’s a school day. Go say goodbye to Mino, okay? We can come back on the weekend.” The child pouts at his answer.

Jimin walks back at a snail's pace toward his friends. Hoseok chuckles at the child’s reluctant movements. The little boy takes longer than necessary to come back, but Hoseok doesn’t nag. This, Jimin’s freedom, is the fight he’s forever having with his parents, and it would be hypocritical for him to reprimand the child for acting his age.

The walk to their high rise apartment is perhaps Hoseok’s favorite time of any day. Jimin’s happy chatter about his day, his friends, and school makes Hoseok’s heart soar with happiness. There’s something about the ruddy faced youngster that warms him from the inside out. Before Jimin’s entrance into his world, Hoseok didn’t know the kind of love he feels for his son existed in the world.

“Taehyung stoled Jungkook from school and had go the princeapal’s office. But they have the same last name, so Taehyung says it’s okay. Can I have ice cream?” Jimin’s tiny hand is swallowed in Hoseok’s larger one.

“Jungkook?”

“Mmm, Ms. Wang made us alphabetic, and Jungkook took my chair,” the corners of Jimin’s lips begin to drop. Hoseok has a flash of illogical anger at the thought of someone doing something that made his child sad, “but it’s okay because Jungkook likes Ironman and orange crayons, and he’s Taehyung’s brother.”

“How exactly did Taeyung steal Jungkook?”

“I dunno, he just did.” Hoseok’s less than satisfied with the child’s response. “Appa,” Jimin’s brows take a serious stance, and Hoseok prepared himself for what may come next, “can I have ice cream?”

Hoseok’s laughter fills the air around them as the walk home.

“Yes, you may, but after dinner, okay?”

“Nae, Appa.”

Jimin’s smells like freshly cut grass, dirt, and sweat and it’s Hoseok favorite scent in the entire world. It reminds Hoseok of growing up, of the one year his parents relented and allowed him to go to summer camp. It reminds him of sunshine, freedom, and the innocence of youth. They make it to the building, and Jimin takes off running toward the doorman, who always manages to have the child’s favorite candy prepared.

“Ahjussi, hello,” Jimin bows and stretches out his hand, ready to accept his prize and, as always, the older man does not disappoint.

“Sir,” the doorman bows to Hoseok as he enters, and he returns the gesture with a smile.

“How come you never have candy for me, Sam?” Hoseok jokes; it’s their tradition.

“You’re not as cute as Jimin, sir.”

Hoseok chuckles as he ushers Jimin through the elegantly decorated waiting area to the private elevator that leads to their penthouse. The child slumps against him with a sigh once inside the metal box.

“Tired buddy?”

Jimin nods, and Hoseok feels a sense of satisfaction because he’s done it, he’s freed Jimin from the prison that was his childhood. He promised Yong-Sun that their child would grow up differently from them, that Jimin’s goal in life wouldn’t be to run away from his family the first chance he had. He’s kept his promise, and Jimin’s sweaty, metallic scent is confirmation.

“Alright champ, take off your clothes. Appa will meet you in the bathroom in a second, okay?”

Jimin nods and takes off down the hall, shedding his shorts and t-shirt on the way; it’s not quite what Hoseok meant.

“Hey, put those in the dirty hamper, please.”

He hears Jimin scamper back into the hall, socked feet sliding along the tile.

After the bath, dinner goes pretty quickly, mostly because Jimin nods off several times during the meal, unable to keep his eyes open long enough to have his ice cream. On the final drop, when Jimin’s tiny head hits the table, barely missing his tomato soup, with a thud—Hoseok lifts the child from his seat, carrying him to his room.

Hoseok’s a sucker for snuggle moments, Jimin’s head in the crook of his neck, exhaustion flowing from the youngster like an untamed river, pudgy fingers disrupting the collar of his t-shirt, and tiny puffs of contentment hitting his skin. This, treasures like this, Hoseok thinks, are what being a parent is all about.

“But, but, I didn’t get ice cream,” Jimin reminds him sleepily as Hoseok tucks him into bed.

“I know, I promise tomorrow you can have ice cream before dinner.”

“Can I have two ice creams?” Jimin requests, holding up three fingers.

“No,” Hoseok answers and chuckles, ruffling the child’s wavy black hair. “No, you may not.”

Jimin’s bottom lip juts out in a pout but is soon overtaken by a wide mouth yawn accompanied by droopy sleep glazed eyes. He leans down to place a soft kiss on Jimin’s forehead. Jimin’s eyes flutter shut, and a moment later the child’s even breathing fills the room.

“Night buddy. Appa loves you,” he whispers.

Hoseok leaves the door ajar as he exits, walking back the living room.

Spying his cell phone on the dining room table, he grabs it, then heads to the couch. Throwing himself on the soft leather sofa, he dials Jin’s number as he situates himself and drops a throw blanket over his lap.

“Yes, Hoseok,” Jin answers, sounding somewhat exasperated.

“Had another riveting convo with my mother as to why her and my father would be the best options for raising Jimin.” He hadn’t realized how much the talk with his mother affected him until Jin gave him an opening.

“Why are they so adamant about this all of a sudden?” Jin’s question is the one Hoseok’s been asking since the battle started three days after Jimin’s fourth birthday.

“I’m not sure, either. Fours years, hyung, four full years without so much as a birthday card, acknowledging Jimin’s existence. Now suddenly they want to raise him and make him their legal heir. I just don’t get it.”

“Sorry, Hoseok-ah. Have you talked to Yong-Sun about this? Does she know?”

Hoseok sighs loudly.

“No.” The last thing Hoseok wants to do is drag Yong-Sun into this mess. “She’s just recently gotten herself back to a good place, you know? I don’t wanna do anything that might disrupt that.”

“I get that,” Jin tells him, and Hoseok pictures his friend nodding his head on the line.

“I’m nervous, you know? I don’t say it out loud because I don’t want to acknowledge it, but there’s this pink elephant -- make that pink King Kong sized fear eating me up. I’m worried that they’ll try to take him away,” Hoseok admits, for perhaps the first time.

“I’m sorry, Hoseok-ah.” Jin’s voice is soft and soothing, and Hoseok thinks this sound may be the reason he called; he just needs to know someone in on his side. “Is there anything I can do?”

Hoseok shakes his head. He knows Jin can’t see his response, but he just needs a moment without words.

“How are you, hyung?” He changes the subject. He needs to.

“Well, I made my child cry for an hour last night, so I’m doing amazing. I’m thinking about getting into the running for parent of the year.” Sarcasm and sadness drip from Jin’s voice.

“Ahh, Jimin told me that Tae went home crying because you wouldn’t let him take his brother home. You holding out on me, sunshine?” Hoseok wants to lighten the mood.

“Did you call just to make fun of me?” Jin seems to catch on and plays along. “Because if so, that makes me question our friendship.”

Hoseok chuckles; banter is their love language.

“Please, if that were true, this friendship would have ended on day one. So, what happened anyway? My son was not forthcoming with any facts, only that the kid likes orange crayons and Ironman.”

“It seems Taehyung’s new classmate has the same last name as him, and someone who shall remain nameless, Jung Hoseok, told my very impressionable five-year-old that people with the same family name are all related. Now he thinks that Kim Jungkook is his brother. So, you know, thanks for that by the way.” 

“Happy to help.” He chuckles, laughing at Jin’s cluck of disapproval.

“There’s more,” Jin says sheepishly, and Hoseok finds himself leaning into the phone.

“More?”

“Mmm. So it turns out that Taehyung's new brother happens to be my adorable patient from three weeks ago.” Jin sighs on the line, and Hoseok can feel the man’s stress in his gut. “Oh, and did I mention the day it happened, we had an emergency just before I went to pick up Tae? A patient throw up all over my favorite Gucci button down, and I didn't have time to change, and I was arguing with a nurse on the phone when Taehyung got in the car so I didn’t see him smuggle another human in…and fuck why’s my life like this?”

“Wait? Hold up, the single dad with the dimples so deep you want to do jello shots out of them?” He can almost feel Jin shrivel in embarrassment on the line.

“You know, you don’t always have to repeat my drunken statements back to me,” Jin deadpans.

“Why? They’re so much fun to relive, like your favorite episode of Friends, only sloshed Jin style.” Hoseok laughs at his joke.

“I hate you right now,” Jin declares.

“No, you don’t.”

Jin sighs, and it sounds like defeat.

“Anyway, yes dimples. Apparently, all this time Jungkook, his son, has been in the same class as Jimin and Tae.”

“Well, that’s somewhat fortuitous,” Hoseok points out.

“Not really. I have no time for a relationship; I barely have time to eat. Plus, dimples has, uhm, issues. Also, my child tried to kidnap his, so I think it’s safe to say I’m on the do not contact list.”

“Issues? What issues?” he questions Jin.

“He’s agoraphobic,” Jin states simply.

“That’s fear of crowds, right?” Hoseok’s not up to date on his social anxieties.

“Yes and no. It’s more fear of not being in control. Like you’re scared that you won’t be able to manage a situation or a place and so you avoid it all together.” Jin sounds like the medical personnel he is, and Hoseok can’t help but smile.

“Is it an unsurmountable phobia? Can people overcome it?” Hoseok asks.

“Yes, with treatment. There are cases too, where people just get over it, like a switch turns on and they’re no longer afraid.”

“Jin, this is the first time in a while that you’ve been remotely interested in someone who wasn’t a patient or a cartoon character. Why are you closing the door without ever walking inside?’

“Because, Hoseok. I’m fucking scared.”

 

 ****

“Jungkook, Uncle Yoongi’s here to take you to school,” Namjoon calls from the front door.

“Nae, Appa.”

“You okay?” Yoongi asks Namjoon, brows drawn in concern.

“Yeah, I’m... Jungkook’s fine. He must have asked me when Taehyung was coming to visit at least fifty times last night. He likes this kid, and he’s never really had a friend over or gone to a friend’s house. Am I a bad parent?” The question has been eating him up all night.

“You’re an amazing parent, Joon; Jungkook’s proof of that. He’s also never asked to have a friend over before. Stop beating yourself up.”

Yoongi’s words are meant to encourage him, but deep down he knows that Jungkook’s never asked because even at the tender age of five he understands that his dad’s not normal. Namjoon sighs and pats Yoongi on the shoulder in a silent thank you. Seconds later he hears the patter of little feet along the tile as Jungkook rounds the corner to the foyer, Ironman backpack in tow.

“You have everything?”

“Yes, Appa.” Jungkook nods.

“Remember what Appa told you last night.”

The little boy’s bottom lip juts out in an instant pout.

“I can only get in Uncle Yoongi’s car.” Jungkook responds almost automatically.

“Good boy. Have fun at school.”

Namjoon gets down to Jungkook’s level, kissing the little boy lightly on the forehead.

“Appa, can I still let Taehyung be my brother? It’s fun having a brother.”

The child’s innocence breaks him, and Namjoon prays that this part of Jungkook never goes away, never gets tarnished by the world. Looking up at Yoongi from his position on the ground, he’s expecting to see the answer to Jungkook’s question looming over the man’s head like a light bulb or a speech bubble in a comic strip, he finds a question mark instead.

“Taehyung’s not your brother though, sweetie.” He’s not sure how else to respond.

“I know, but we can pretend, right?”

How can he say no to that?

“Yes, you’re absolutely correct, you can. Say hi to Taehyung for me, okay?”

The smile Jungkook graces him with is brilliant, blinding, and it chases all of Namjoon’s darkness away. He hugs the little boy tightly, kissing the top of his son’s dark brown locks before releasing him into Yoongi’s charge. He watches as the duo disappears down the hall to the elevator, hand in hand, Jungkook jumping up and down, happily chatting. Namjoon’s both grateful for and jealous of Yoongi. That should be him holding Jungkook’s hand. He should be taking his child to school and hearing his excited morning chatter. Instead, Yoongi has become somewhat of a surrogate father to Jungkook, enjoying all the moments in the little boy’s life where Namjoon’s not well enough to participate.

Closing his front door on the now empty hallway, he shuffles back to his bedroom to grab his laptop off his bed. He’d fallen asleep making tweaks to the most recent chapter of the story he’s working on. Leaning over to grab the computer, he spies the white business card on the nightstand next to him. Sitting on the bed, computer momentarily forgotten, he picks up the card. Seokjin’s name is written in a soft pink color that, for some reason, has Namjoon thinking about clouds and kittens.

He twirls the white, three-by-two card in between his fingers, mulling over his next steps. Flopping backward, his back hits the mattress with a small thump. Holding Seokjin’s card above his head, Namjoon stares at the name for what could be construed as an absurdly long time, and sighing, he sits back up and reaches under his pillow to retrieve his cell phone.

Before he lets his fear and the nervous electricity that’s pulsing through his veins talk him out of it, Namjoon smashes the doctor's numbers on the screen and hits send.

 

 ****

“Your eight o’clock is here, sir,” Tara, his nurse says, handing him a chart.

“Thank you, Tara,” Seokjin says, taking the silver clip board from the nurse.

He sits down at his desk, chart in his hand, and he munchies on the breakfast bar as he familiarizes himself with the child’s symptoms. His cell buzzes to life on his desk, startling him. The number is unknown, and he considers not answering, but Taehyung had a slight cough this morning, and it could be the school.

“Hello, this is Doctor Kim Seokjin.”

“Uhm,” the voice on the other end starts hesitantly, and Jin’s heart begins to race he recognizes the owner instantly. “Hello Doctor Kim, this Kim Namjoon, uhm our sons, I mean, your son and mine, uhm… this is a bad idea.”

“No,” Jin blurts out. Closing his eyes, he mentally facepalms himself. “I mean, please don’t hang up. I want to apologize properly on my son’s behalf. Taehyung’s very impressionable, and a family friend accidentally told him that all people with the same last name were related, and well, he took that and ran with it, I guess. Again, I’m sorry about what happened. Uhm, is Jungkook okay?” He feels almost guilty asking the question.

The line is silent. He holds the phone away to look at the screen, thinking Namjoon has disconnected, but the timer is still active.

“Yeah, uhm, yes. He’s fine, which is uhm, why I’m calling.” Even on the phone Namjoon trips over his words, and Jin finds the action more endearing than he should. “Jungkook’s, uhm…I-I’d like to take you up on your offer for a play date.”

Jin’s too stunned to respond immediately. He suggested the play date on a whim, but given Namjoon’s medical phobia, he never expected the tall man to acknowledge his request, much less accept.

“Are you sure?” He questions, still dazed.

“Yes, yes I think so. It’s just that Jungkook’s never asked for a friend to come over before, and he’s five, and I think he’s never asked because of, uhm, me.” Namjoon sighs.

“Taehyung cried himself to sleep last night; this will make his entire year. Also, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Namjoon asks.

“Blame yourself, don’t do that. Jungkook’s funny and adorable, and from my perspective as a medical doctor, well rounded. You must be doing something right for your child to be this happy. Honestly, Namjoon-sshi, at the end of the day, all that matters is that as parents we do our absolute best.” Jin stops, realizing that he and Namjoon aren’t close enough for this sort of exchange, but he hopes that one day they will be. “Sorry if I overstepped.”

“No, no you didn’t. Thank you, Seokjin-sshi,” Namjon says quickly, and Jin smiles brightly on the other end of the line. “So, when would be a good day for you? If it’s okay with you, I’d like it to be relatively soon, like maybe over the weekend, if you can swing it?”

Jin looks at his calendar. There’s a soft knock at his door which has him looking up, and he finds Tara pointing at her watch, indicating the patient is waiting for him in the exam room. Jin’s so distracted by Namjoon’s call, he’s forgotten that he’s at work. He waves her off, letting her know he’ll be there shortly.

“I typically work a hospital shift every other weekend. My calendar says this is my off week, so Saturday or Sunday is fine with me.”

“Uhm, Saturday?” Namjoon says slowly, as though he’s still pondering if it’s the right day.

“That’s great. Taehyung will be so excited.” He leaves out the part where he’s excited as well. “Is it okay if I invite along Taehyung’s best friend Jimin? He’s in the same class as the boys.”

“Yes, that should be fine. Yoongi will be there as well, so there should be enough adult supervision. How does two in the afternoon sound? There’s a park near the school.” Jin nods at Namjoon’s statement.

“The one with the Planet of the Apes jungle gym?” he inquires.

“Mmm, Jungkook loves it there. As you know, he likes to climb.”

“Yes, he does,” Jin responds with a short laugh as he remembers his first encounter with the bunny-smiled five-year-old. “Two sounds great. I like to sleep in on my days off, so this will give me enough time to do that and make breakfast for Tae.”

“Good, that’s good.”

With their plans finalized, there’s nothing left to say. They stay on the line, a heavy, awkward silence floating between them. Jin desperately wants to say something light and cheerful, something to make Namjoon smile and end their call on a positive note.

Another knock on his door foils his plans.

“Shit, I’m coming,” is what he says into the phone, followed by, “Fuck, that wasn’t aimed at you. Damn it, why?” Jin sighs and collects his nerves. “I don’t have a side job as a sailor; my nurse is rushing me because I have a patient, and I tend to curse when I get flustered. I apologize if I offended you in any way.”

To Jin’s great surprise and relief, his faux pas has tendered positive results as Namjoon laughs heartily on the line. If hot chocolate had a sound, Jin believes Namjoon’s laugh would be it; the laugh is thick, rich, and intense, as though it emanates from a well buried deep within the caverns of the man’s soul. Jin wants to bath in the noise.

“Tend to your patient. Jungkook and I will see you on Saturday. I look forward to meeting your son, Seokjin-sshi.”

They bid each other goodbye, and Jin ends the call just in time to see a very irritated Tara side-eyeing him from the door post.

“I know, I know.” He bows apologetically as he passes her and makes his way into the examing room.

 

 ****

 

  _ **T**_ ** _o: lifesaverMin_**

_I did it hyung_

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_???_

_._

_._

_._

_Wait, did you finish the chapter?_

 

Namjoon laughs to himself. Yoongi thinks about exactly two things all the time: Jungkook, or Namjoon’s progress on a story.

 

**_To: lifesaverMin_ **

_No._

_I’m working on the chapter now_

_So don’t worry._

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_Then what?_

**_To: lifesaverMin_ **

_I set up a play date for Jungkook with Kim Seokjin’s son_

****

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_Woah_

_I’m proud of you Joon_

_When?_

**_To: lifesaverMin_ **

_Saturday at 2_

 

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_Okay_

_I’ll pick you and Kookie up_

**_To: lifesaverMin_ **

_Thanks hyung_

_How was Kook this morning_

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_The same_

_It doesn't seem like the incident has done anything_

_Except maybe have him say the name_

_Taehyung at least three times in every sentence_

**_To: lifesaverMin_ **

_Yeah he talked about Taehyung all night_

_I think it was the last thing he said before falling asleep_

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_Joon I’m about to step into a meeting_

_About your book, actually._

_I’ll talk with you later_

**_To: lifesaverMin_ **

_Get me a raise_

_Bye hyung_

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_Joon_

**_To: lifesaverMin_ **

_Mmm_

**_From: lifesaverMin_ **

_I’m really proud of you_

 

Namjoon breaks his cardinal rule and sends Yoongi a heart emoji before tossing his phone on the desk and firing up his laptop. As he waits for the computer to load, he thumbs through the notes he’s written for the chapter. He’s been struggling with characterization. The protagonist feels a bit off, but he’s not sure why. He scribbles a note on the page, reminding himself to show the piece to Yoongi. A second opinion is always helpful. His screen loads just as his phone buzzes to life, jumping like a Mexican bean on the desk.

He doesn’t recognize the number.

Normally Namjoon doesn’t answer numbers he doesn’t know, but he’s made plans with Kim Seokjin and wonders if maybe this number belongs to the doctor. He answers the call.

“Hello, Namjoon oppa?” Her voice is the same, and Namjoon’s pulse quickens.

“H-hello,” he stutters out the greeting.

“Oppa, it’s me, Jennie. How are you oppa?”

It’s been almost three years since they last time they interacted. The day of “the incident” that forever changed the landscape of Namjoon’s life.

“What do you want?” He wants to sound hard, cold, but his reply just sounds scared.

“I-I,” she hesitates, and Namjoon holds his breath. “I want to see him, Jungkook. I-I want to see him.”

Namjoon knew this day would come, he did. He just expected it to be later, much, much later. He’s not prepared, not even slightly. Holding the phone away from his ear, he glances at the screen and takes a deep breath.

“No,” he says it with all the finality he can muster before pressing end and disconnecting the call.

The phone becomes his enemy for the next fifteen minutes or so, ringing and vibrating on an endless loop that has Namjoon’s insides convulsing and screaming. Jennie’s invaded his one place of solitude, his home. Her constant barrage of messages and phone calls has taken away his sanctuary. Although, he thinks to himself, he shouldn’t be surprised; Jennie’s always been able to get to him in a way no one else ever could.

He leaves the phone on the desk, twitching and begging to be picked up. His hands are covering his ears, trying to drown out the sound as he exits his office and walks to his bedroom. Crawling between the sheets, he pulls the covers over his head and cocoons himself, like a caterpillar pre metamorphosis. Logically the distance from his bedroom to the den prevents Namjoon from hearing the vibrations of his cell. Logically he knows the sounds he hears, the ones leading to his inevitable breakdown, are all in his head. Despite knowing this, Namjoon sinks inward, allowing fear to swallow him, haunted by a sound that he isn’t actually hearing.

This, this is how Yoongi finds him:

Mummified and crying into his pillow.

 

 ****

“Wait, so he called you?” Hoseok sounds genuinely surprised, so much so that Jin chuckles.

“Mmm,” Jin responds.

He’s giddy as he sits in front of his friend, munching on a burger. Jin doesn’t typically leave the office for lunch; he normally uses the time to catch up on all the shit he doesn’t have time to do as he’s seeing patients, but he’s too excited after Namjoon’s call to focus on work, hell, to focus on anything, to be honest. So when Hoseok calls and invites him out, he jumps at the chance.

“You look like Jimin when I take him to Paris Baguette and tell him he can get anything he wants,” Hoseok teases, and Jin can’t find it in himself to be offended.

“It’s such a big step for him, given his condition. He loves his child so fiercely, and I can’t help that I find that sexy as hell. And his voice, goddamnit, is what sex would sound like if it could talk. I’m fucking smitten, and all he’s done is ask me to bring my child to play with his.”

“Why does that sound dirty?” Hoseok waggles his eyebrows.

“Our actual children, you pervert.” Jin almost chokes on his burger.

All kidding aside, he’s had more than one very detailed fantasy about Namjoon’s plump lips and long fingers. He berates himself; he needs to gain control over his emotions.

“I know, I know, and I’m oddly disappointed that’s what you mean.” Jin chuckles at his friend’s statement. “So, you prepared to spend time alone with your crush?”

“About that,” Jin starts slowly, “you wanna come?”

“You’re asking me to accompany you on your date with hot dimples?” Hoseok has a way of making anything Jin says sound dirty.

“It’s not a date, and yes I’m asking you to come and bring Jimin.”

“Mmm, Jimin has been talking about Taehyung’s little brother quite a lot lately. Did you know your dimpled-sweetheart is a well-known author? According to Jimin, fambulous. Pretty sure he meant famous, but that’s a new word to the five-year-old dictionary that I’ll be writing.”

“Make sure to add relaytable,” Jin adds with a grin. “A writer, well, I love to read. Do you know what he’s written?”

“Nah, my child’s hasn’t properly learned the art of gossip.”

Lunch continues with them trading stories about their children. He and Hoseok finalize their plans for Saturday before Jin pays for lunch and the two go their separate ways. He finds himself smiling uncontrollably as he makes the short walk back to his office.

Namjoon called.

Namjoon fucking called.

 

 ****

“Are you excited about your play date with Taehyung tomorrow?” They’re in the kitchen, a rarity for Namjoon who’s more prone to burn water than boil it.

“Uh-huh, Taehyung says we can play lots and lots and have fun.” The excitement in Jungkook’s voice makes Namjoon glad that he decided to call Seokjin.  “Appa?” the child’s tone is guarded, serious even, and Namjoon looks at him curiously.

“What is it honey?”

“Are you coming too? To play with me and Taehyung?”

“Do you want me to come?”

“Mmmm, everything’s lots more fun with you,” Jungkook answers, eyes pleading and sincere.

“Of course Appa is coming. I can’t let you and Taehyung have all that fun without me, now can I?” He ruffles the child’s hair and chuckles to himself when he hears Jungkook breathe what sounds like a sigh of relief.

Their moment’s disrupted when a pot cover ricochets off the stove and flies clear across the room before banging against a wall and landing on the ground. The cover was not alone on its trip. Unfortunately, spaghetti sauce kept it company on the travel, landing on the walls and the floor in an epic display of red abstract art that reminds Namjoon of blood spatter at a crime scene.

“Woah, do it again daddy, do it again,” Jungkook begs, clapping excitedly, and Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Uhm, no. Appa never repeats his magic tricks.” The child pouts, and Namjoon holds back his laughter. Surveying the mess he’s made, he turns to Jungkook with a grin, “So, buddy, how do feel about pizza tonight?”

“Yay! Pizza!” Jungkook bolts out of the kitchen in a blaze of energetic excitement, leaving Namjoon to clean up the saucy mess.

Jennie’s call’s still on his mind as he wipes up the red glob with a paper towel. He’s calmer about her unexpected disturbance of their peace than he thinks he should be. Disruptions typically overwhelm him, leaving him either turned into himself and unable to function or hiding out from the world like an escaped criminal and unable to function. He wonders what the change is, what’s made this situation bearable? Maybe, Namjoon thinks to himself, it’s because he knew this day would come. Jennie’s Jungkook’s mom, although they haven’t communicated since the day he entered the hospital, the day of “the incident” when she left their two-year-old child alone in a subway terminal. It took several hours and a city full of police officers to find the child; the event was the last splinter in Namjoon’s already cracked armor, the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

Namjoon had never been mad at her before that day, not when she told him she was pregnant, not when she said she wanted an abortion, and not even when she said she was giving the baby up for adoption because she didn’t want to be a mother. He supported her every step of the way and offered options and alternatives, hoping to alleviate the inevitable guilt she would feel later down the road.

Namjoon had never been mad at her before that day, choosing instead to bottle his feeling in a well-constructed clay jar, buried deep in the recesses of his soul, fermenting and rotting inside his heart. Namjoon had never been mad at her before that day, that fateful, frightening day when every emotion he ever felt came pouring out of him like a raging angry sea of venom, filling the in-between spaces with all the hurt and pain he’d accumulated over their many years of one-sided love. When he emptied himself, when it all spilled out, when there was nothing left to say, nothing left to do, leaving only fear, Namjoon broke.

“Appa, can we have lots of cheese?” Jungkook yells from the other room, pulling Namjoon from his thoughts.

“As much cheese as you want,” he says with a chuckle at the whoop of joy he’s gifted.

He orders the pizza and tosses his phone on the table to finish his cleanup. He hasn’t told Yoongi about Jennie’s call yet. Yoongi had been the one who found him that day, after the call. The man had asked him what happened, but he was too shaken up, too dumfounded to speak. He needs to tell Yoongi, but he also needs time to let her reemergence into their lives sink in.

 

 ****

**MEANWHILE….**

“Taehyung, what are you doing?” Jin walks into kitchen to find the child with what he hopes is flour all over his face, hands, and the floor.

“I’m cooking dinner. Don’t judge me.”

He stares at the child for a brief moment, a slight smirk on his face. The little boy’s grown so much over the last six months. Gone is the baby pudge that used to frame his tiny face. Curious eyes are now more determined, critical, as though Taehyung’s seeing the world clearly and not liking what he sees. Jin’s heart cracks a bit at the realization that his tiny ball of fire is growing up.

“ _I’m_ judging you, though,” he deadpans.

A fierce growl escapes the youngster, that is as unnerving as it is hilarious.

“DON’T. JUDGE. MEEEEEEEE.”

He shouldn’t laugh, he knows he shouldn’t laugh, but these moments are ones he should live in because when they pass, he’ll never get them back, so he decides to enjoy it.

“Appa is very sorry. Can you forgive me?”

Taehyung looks at him cautiously, head angled to the side, eyes concentrated on Jin’s face. Taehyung’s stare is so intense that for a brief moment Jin feels undone.

“Okay,” Taehyung responds after a moment.

“What’cha making?” he asks.

“Uhm, dinner?”

“What kind of dinner?” he tries again.

“Uhm, food,” Taehyung says slowly, thoughtfully.

“Taehyung,” Jin says the child’s name with eyebrows cocked.

“Nae, Appa,” the response’s sheepish, and it’s then that Jin realizes Taehyuung has no idea what he’s doing.

He has two options; he can reprimand Taehyung for making a mess, one that Jin will inevitably have to clean, or he can make it a memory that they’ll both carry for the rest of their lives.

“Wanna help Appa cook dinner for real?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen with awe as his head bobs up and down like a bobblehead.

“Okay, what do you want to make?”

“Jungkook likes spesghettis,” Taehyung declares as he jumps down from the stool he’d be standing on, trotting over to the cupboard next to the fridge to get the spaghetti noodles.

“He does? Okay, well then let’s make a lot, and we can take some for Jungkook when we see him tomorrow.”

Taehyung gasps in shock, as though it just hit him that tomorrow he’ll be seeing the little boy whom he’s talked about incessantly for the entire week. In fact, over the last week, Taehyung’s said the child’s name with the same frequency and reverence that he usually reserves for Jimin.

“Appa, can Jungkook be my real brother?” Taehyung asks, licking his chapped lips with a pink tongue and looking up at Jin with innocent, curious eyes.

Inhaling, he gets down on one knee to Taehyung’s level. He’s not sure what the right answer is to the question. Namjoon is intriguing, to be sure, and it’s the first time in a while that Jin’s felt attracted to someone, it’s the first time in a while that he's wanted to pursue another human in a way that isn’t friendship or a patient-doctor relationship. Inna left a void, a crater-sized hole that nothing can fill. She was light, laughter, the sun, and love all rolled into one. Taehyung has her off the cuff personality. He sees his late wife in Taehyung’s eyes, in Taehyung’s smile, and in Taehyung’s ability to see the good in everything, no matter how absurd.

“Yes, of course he can. I’ll fight anyone that says he can’t.”

It’s most likely not the right answer, but it’s the one Taehyung needs to hear. The child’s bright smile which rivals the sun is proof enough.

“Okay,” Jin says as he kicks the stool in front of the pantry door and lifts Taehyung onto the stand, “can you get Appa the sauce?”

“Mmm,” Taehyung responds, digging through the contents in the cupboard.

Cooking with Taehyung’s like a semi-choreographed dance where the steps become more graceful over time and with continued practice. Jin has to move the youngster out of harm's way on several occasions when he's gotten too close to a flame or a sharp-edge, but on the whole, the process has been more enjoyable than stressful.

They sit across from each other at the table, surveying their spread. Taehyung’s looks up, a toothy-grin on his face.

“We maked a whole bunch of food, huh Appa?” Taehyung spreads his arms wide.

“Yes, we did, honey. Eat a lot, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head and sticks his spoon into the bowl, scooping a heaping pile of food into his mouth and slurping at stray bits of noodles dangling from his lips.

“Yummy.” Taehyung dances around in his seat.

They eat without speaking. The only sounds in the room are those of chewing and utensils clanging against the plate. It’s nice. Jin wishes Inna were here to share the moment.

_He’s everything you imagined he would be Inni, and more. He has your smile and your eyes, and it breaks my heart that you didn’t get to spend more time with him. I promise to keep him safe. I promise to love him enough for the both of us._

After dinner they clear the table, then Jin gives Taehyung a bath. Jin likes to think Taehyung’s part fish; the child loves water.  It’s their catch up time where they talk about their day as Taehyung splashes about in the tub, regaling Jin with tidbits about what he’s learning in class and stories about his, Jimin’s, and now Jungkook’s escapades. Bath time is when Jin first learned about Taehyung’s imaginary friend, who apparently lives on the moon and really likes cheese.

“So,” he starts as he runs the wash cloth behind Taehyung’s ear, “I was talking to Heentsyhotsy, and she told me,” Jin leans in and begins to whisper, “that you say bad words all the time. So I told her, Taehyung would never do that, but she insisted it was true.”

The little boy’s thoughtfully quiet for a while, and Jin’s bemused by the array of emotions that flicker across Taehyung’s beautiful face. He’s tempted to ask the child what he’s thinking about, but he doesn’t want to disrupt his son’s cognitive flow, so he waits patiently for a response.

After a bit, Taehyung smacks his lips and declares, “You know what appa? I’m going to miss Heentsyhotsy.”

“Why, is she in jail again?” Taehyung’s reply is not what he expected.

“No, it was time for her to go to heaven and keep Eomma’s company.”

“You killed Heentsyhotsy?” Jin’s not sure whether to be amused or worried.

“No, no, I would never, Appa. She’s dead because of naturecauses.”

“Nature causes?” _Amused, definitely amused._

“Mmm, nature deaded her because, because she told a lie. Lying is bad and dangerous. Plus she kept stealing my Batman lego, so she had to go.”

 

 ****

Jungkook sits up in his bed; he’s excited. It’s the day after yesterday, which makes today tomorrow. He thinks. The numbers on his Ironman clock read five, two, five. He’s not allowed to go into his dad’s room until the numbers read six, zero, zero. He looks around his dimly lit room, eyes squinting to adjust. Rolling onto his side, he reaches out and pulls the cord on his bedside lamp. It’s too early for cartoons; he’s not allowed until after breakfast. There’s nothing to do, so he decides to get dressed all by himself and surprise his Appa.

Climbing out of bed, his bare feet hit the tile with a slight thump; he scurries to the four-drawered chest next to his closet, opening the third one where his play clothes are.

“Uhm,” he says to his Ryan Teddy clutched in his arm as he looks in the drawer.

He pulls his favorite Avengers t-shirt out and his black jeans shorts, the one with the red pockets. Putting them on the bed, he has an idea.

“Appa checks the sun to make sure it will shine,” Jungkook tells Ryan who’s now perched next to his outfit.

He grabs his stuffed friend off the bed and slips out his room, tiptoeing down the hall as quietly as he can to the living room; he turns the TV on, quickly muting it before switching to the weather channel and sitting on the floor, Ryan between his legs, his head chin resting on the toy’s head.

“Yuh oh yur. Ah ayreeah,” Jungkook sounds out the words he sees on the screen. “Yogurt area? I don’t think that’s right, huh Ryan? It’s like yogurt, but it’s not yogurt.”

Staring at the television screen, Jungkook scowls, his brows drawn together as he tries to figure out what the squiggly pictures mean and why there’s no picture of the sun.

“This is hard,” Jungkook says with a pout and hugs Ryan to his chest.

“What’s hard bud? Why are you awake so early?” his dad asks.

“I was looking for the sun so that I can wear my shorts with the red pockets. But, but I can’t find it,” Jungkook says, bottom lip trembling in frustration.

“Shorts with red pock—oh, I know which ones you mean. So why are you looking for the sun?”

“Because the sun means that I can wear shorts and not long pants. But there’s just squiggly lines and, and yogurt.”

“Yogurt?”

“Mmm, yogurt area,” Jungkook says, pointing to the words on the screen.

“Ahh, you did a good job trying to sound that out on your own, bud. It says, your area. Appa is proud of how smart you are.”

Jungkook smiles.

“I’m growing bigger, right Appa?”

His father looks sad for a bit, and Jungkook worries that he’s said something incorrect.

“Yes, so big, but you’ll be Appa’s little bunny forever.” Jungkook smiles at the statement; he like’s being his Appa’s little bunny. “Mmm,” his dad says, looking at the screen once again, “the weather looks like it’s going to be nice today. So you can wear your shorts today.

“Yes!” Jungkook exclaims with a fist pump.

Jumping up from his spot on the ground, Jungkook grabs Ryan by an ear and runs down the hall to his bedroom.

“Where are you going?” his father questions.

“To get dressed. I don’t want to be late,” he responds a few steps from his door.

“Kookie, there’s eight hours still before we leave for the park,” Namjoon calls out, but Jungkook doesn’t hear.

 

 ****

Namjoon chuckles. Jungkook hasn’t been this excited about anything since his fourth birthday when Yoongi hired an actor to dress up like Ironman and surprise the little boy. It’s eleven in the morning, and the youngster has been dressed and ready since six thirty. Namjoon has told him several times that it was too early, that his play date with Taehyung wasn’t until two in the afternoon, but his son’s insistent that he doesn’t want to be late and needs to be ready.

“Appa,” Jungkook tumbles into the living room, “can I bring Ryan to the park, and my toy truck, the one with lights, and my basket ball, and, and, and can we bring happy face sandwiches for me and Taehyung and Jimin?” The little boy rattles off his list.

“When Uncle Yoongi gets here we can make sandwiches, but are you sure you want to bring Ryan? He could get dirty, and then we’d have to put him in the washing machine.”

Jungkook’s biggest fear is the washing machine eating his favorite stuffed lion.

“No, Appa, no,” Jungkook’s reply is bearly above a whisper, and frightened saucer-sized eyes stare up at Namjoon.

“Then we should leave Ryan here.” The little boy nods his head in agreement.

“But I wanted Taehyung and Jimin to meet Ryan. Ryan’s my closestest friend, and Taehyung’s my brother.” Jungkook pouts, and Namjoon has a hard time keeping the chuckle down.

“Maybe, one day we can invite, Jimin is it?” Jungkook nods, “and Taehyung over to meet Ryan.”

Right now, Namjoon feels like a superhero who’s just saved the world from devasting destruction. His little boy’s gasps of excited delight are enough to make him believe he can handle strangers in his home.

“Really appa?” Jungkook asks in amazement. “In my house, here?”

“Mmm,” Namjoon nods. “We’ll see how today goes, and if you still really want Taehyung to meet Ryan we ca--”

Namjoon doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Jungkook rams into his front, almost knocking him backward, little arms encircling him in a tight hug. It’s enough. This moment, it’s enough to make all the bad that Namjoon has experienced over the last several years worth it. Despite his sometimes debilitating disorder, he’s willing to try anything to make Jungkook smile that bright bunny smile that makes his heart melt. Jennie’s call resurfaces, jumping to the forefront of his mind. He can’t lose Jungkook; he won’t. The child may not be his by blood, but Jungkook is his son in every other respect of the word and he will fight to his last breath to keep him safe.

“I love you, Appa,” the little boy says, voice muffled against Namjoon’s clothing.

“I love you too, bunny.”

The ding of the doorbell has him looking up.

“Uncle Yoongi, Uncle Yoongi’s here,” Jungkook declares excitedly. Letting go of Namjoon, the child scurries to the door.

Namjoon looks at his watch; it reads one-fifteen. _Where has the time gone?_ he wonders to himself. He walks to the door to let Yoongi in.

 

 ****

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” It’s the first thing Hoseok says as Jin lets him and Jimin in the door.

“You know,” Jin grimaces, ruffling Jimin’s hair as the little boy runs off to find Taehyung, “you don’t always have to say _everything_ you’re thinking.”

“Mmm, true. But that just wouldn’t be as much fun. For me. It wouldn’t be as fun for me.” Hoseok winks, and Jin contemplates uninviting him.

“Remind me, why are we friends?”

“You were bedazzled by my brilliant smile, boundless charisma, and movie star good looks,” Hoseok quips easily.

“Mmm. No, that’s not it,” Jin retorts.

“That wasn’t a question,” Hoseok clarifies.

“Still, not it.”

 “How about our kids met each other on the playground at the ripe old age of two, and haven’t separated since? Ours is a friendship of necessity.”

“Sounds about right,” Jin says, nodding his head.

“Ouch, you hurt me right here.” Hoseok puts his hand over his heart. “Seriously though, why are you this ghastly pasty complexion?”

“I’m not sure why myself. I feel nervous and excited all at the same time. I haven’t been this attracted to a person in a while, and it’s stupid for me to have this unrealistic expectation when one, Namjoon’s emotionally unavailable and two, I have no idea if he’s into guys.”

“Maybe don’t go into today with expectations. I don’t want you to set yourself up for failure. Go in with an open mind, and maybe try friendship first. I’m sure given his situation Namjoon could use a good friend, and I happen to know from experience you’re prime, grade A friend material.” Hoseok pats Jin on the shoulder.

“Excellent, I’ll bring along my friendship resume then,” Jin says, more sarcastically than he intended. “Sorry, I’m just on edge. I’m not even sure why; we haven’t even had a real conversation.” Jin runs his hand through his hair, messing up his soft brown locks.

“S’okay, I didn’t take it personally.”

“Why am I like this? This day isn’t about me; it isn’t about Namjoon. It’s about Taehyung and Jungkook.” Jin inhales deeply.

“Hyung, don’t overthink this, and don’t be angry at yourself for feeling something. You’re human, and have kept yourself locked away for too long. You’re not doing anything wrong,” Hoseok encourages.

“Oh, now I remember why I keep you around,” Jin quips, needing to lighten up the atmosphere and change the conversation.

“Really? Not my movie star good looks?” Jin shakes his head with a grin. “How weird,” Hoseok says with fake confusion.

“Appa, Appa,” Taehyung calls as he comes barreling down the hall with Jimin at his heels, “the little hand is between one and two, and the big hand is on, uhm, one five.”

“You mean fifteen?” Jin asks, and tries not laugh when Taehyung lasers him with a look that reads, _duh, that’s what I said._

“It’s time to go see Jungkook, right?” The little boy questions, licking his lips excitedly.

“Mmm, it is.”

“YESSS!” Jimin and Taehyung exclaim in unison.

“Okay, let me go grab the lunch basket I made from the kitchen, and we can leave.”

“Okay,” again Jimin and Taehyung answer as one.

Hoseok follows Jin to the kitchen, concern circling in his eyes.

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Mmm, I’m being silly. I’m probably projecting my feelings onto Namjoon; I don’t know him. I’ve interacted with him exactly twice, and neither time was ideal. I think I’m just attracted to what a good father he is, you know. Plus, I haven’t been attracted to another male since my second year in college, and even then it was mostly for experimentation.” Jin tries to convince himself, but he can tell by the look in Hoseok’s eyes that he’s not convinced.

“Okay,” Hoseok says slowly, “you need me to grab anything?” Jin appreciates that Hoseok has taken the hint and changed the subject.

Kim Namjoon’s not a love interest, potential or otherwise. He’s the father of Taehyung’s fake brother and nothing more. This is what Jin continues to remind himself.

“Mmm, can you grab the six pack of soda in the fridge?”

“Yup.”

They leave the house to the cheers and whoops of two very excited five-year-olds, and this, this Jin thinks to himself, is what today’s all about. He looks up at Hoseok and smiles. He’ll get his feelings under control.

“Let’s go,” Jin says with a grin and a wave of his arm.

 ****

 

“Wait. Fuck, did you say Kim Namjoon? And you’re an author? Fuck. God, sorry for cursing, but are you the same Kim Namjoon that wrote One Way To Live, A Thousand Ways To Die?” Hoseok’s freaking out, legitimately freaking out.

“Uhm, yes,” Namjoon says, and Hoseok can see the man’s discomfort at being recognized. He knows he should calm down given Namjoon’s social disorder, but when will he ever get to meet one of his favorite authors again?

Hoseok’s about to launch himself in Namjoon’s direction; he has so many questions, about characters in the book, about the follow-up story, about Namjoon. A hand firmly holding the back of his black Rolling Stones t-shirt keeps him in place. He turns back to see Jin glaring at him, a look of warning in the man’s brown eyes. Hoseok gives his friend a sheepish look then plants his feet, indicating that he understands what Jin’s trying to say.

“Sorry, I-I’m a big fan,” Hoseok states apologetically, finally noticing the look of fear evident on Namjoon’s face. “Jin is too. I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out.” He turns to face the broad shouldered man.

Jin doesn’t respond, and Hoseok doesn’t push.

“It’s okay,” Namjoon says quietly. “I-I’m not good with people.”

“I guess being an author is the right job for you then, huh?” Hoseok says with a stiff laugh.

Namjoon smiles slightly, and Hoseok breaths a sigh of relief.

“Yes, I guess it is the right job for me.”

“And you are his editor?” Hoseok turns to face the short man with the resting bitch face that’s somehow as soft looking as it is scary.

“No, I’m his manager,” the man sounds offended.

Hoseok nods.

With the introductions completed, the four men stand in awkward silence for a while, watching the three little boys off in the distance. Hoseok’s back pocket starts to vibrate, and he reaches in to pull out his phone.

“Shit,” he says suddenly, causing Jin and Namjoon to stare. “Sorry, it’s my mother.” Jin gives him a knowing look of sympathy as he walks away.

“Hello mother,” he answers the call.

“Hoseok, I’m surprised you answered given that I have left you several messages over the past week which you have yet to respond to,” the woman notes, voice ridiculing.

“If you didn’t expect an answer, why did you call?” Hoseok’s tired of the games.

“I was hoping you had reconsidered my offer to have Jimin come and spend the summer with us this year.”

“Mother, how many different ways can I say no before you understand? My child is not a tool for you to use.”

The woman sighs on the line, and he would feel bad, even guilty for keeping Jimin away from his grandparents if Hoseok didn’t know it was in the child’s best interest. Jimin’s a sensitive child, strong-willed, but at his very core, the child is a pleaser. It wouldn't take long for his parents to manipulate his child’s kind heart, using it against him.

“We’re his grandparents, Hoseok, we have rights,” she informs him, a slight irritation coloring her tone.

“I’m his _parent._ I decide who has rights,” he counters.

“Obviously you’re not prepared to be an adult about this. I will give you some time to think about it.” His mother disconnects the call before he has a chance to reply. He stares at the phone angrily for a bit.

When he finally looks up, he sees Namjoon looking at him in quiet observation. A small part of Hoseok wonders how much of the conversation the man has heard. Another part of him wonders in excitement if he could be the inspiration for one of Namjoon’s characters.

“Sorry, I came to grab drinks from the cooler.” Namjoon points to the red bin under the picnic table.

“No, no it’s fine,” Hoseok sighs.

“Everything alright?” Namjoon asks, and although Hoseok knows the man’s asking to be polite and probably doesn’t want to hear about his problems—Hoseok decides to tell him anyway.

“Family problems; my parents want to take my child. I mean they haven’t said that in so many words, but they’re hoping to raise him to become the heir I never will be.” It’s a lot, too much, to share with a complete stranger, but Hoseok just needs to talk, to say what he’s feeling, and Namjoon made the mistake of asking.

The tall blonde stares at him again, and Hoseok sees something akin to understanding flash across the man’s eyes.

“Jungkook’s mom is doing the same to me,” Namjoon says suddenly.

The author looks in the direction of where his son is currently playing.

“I’m petrified that she’ll take him from me. I won’t survive without him.”

Hoseok follows Namjoon’s gaze, watching Jimin.

“I know what you mean. If I lost Jimin, I’d die. It’s funny too because when he was born, I wanted nothing to do with him, and now, now…my life would burn to the ground without him,” Hoseok muses.

They don’t talk anymore about their mutual fear after that point, but a bond has been built, a bridge of shared understanding linking them together. Hoseok’s never met anyone facing the same situation, anyone who can relate to his dilemma.

“I know this is not the best ground to build a friendship on, but I’m happy I came today. It’s good to know I’m not alone. Also, I’ll give you my contact. If you ever need to talk, I’m always available and not just because you’re my favorite author.”

Namjoon chuckles.

“Good to know. I’m happy you came too. I usually don’t pry. I’m sorry if it felt like I was intruding,” Namjoon says politely.

“Nah, it didn’t.”

Something catches Namjoon’s attention, and Hoseok follows the trajectory of the man’s gaze. Jin’s on the playground with a very giggly Jungkook hanging from his back. Hoseok turns to focus his attention on Namjoon who has the softest smile on his face.

“He’s really good with kids,” Namjoon says, blushing softly, probably from being caught.

“Yeah, he is. He’s a great dad and an amazing pediatrician.”

“I know. Jungkook wouldn’t stop talking about him after the emergency room visit. Normally he doesn’t do well with doctors, but with doctor Kim, he was comfortable instantly.” Namjoon’s eyes are still on Jin, and Hoseok nods in understanding.

“He has this way about him that just makes people, especially children, feel at ease. Jimin hates getting shots, but he’ll let Jin give them to him without fussing. I’m glad I know him.”

“You’re lucky to have a friend like that,” Namjoon says softly.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that after today, keeping Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung separate will be damn near impossible. So, it’s safe to say; you’re lucky to have a friend like him too,” Hoseok informs Namjoon with a smile.

Namjoon doesn’t respond.

 

 ****

Jin has said exactly five sentences to Namjoon since arriving at the play ground, five. He’s not sure why he can’t seem to strike up a conversation with the blonde, and no, it has nothing to do with that fact that’s he’s recently discovered Namjoon’s the author of a series of books that he’s been obsessing over  for the last year, even going as far as indoctrinating Hoseok into the cult. Jin’s not easily star struck, but when the first person in a million years that you find yourself attracted to turns out to be your celebrity crush, a little tongue-tied-ness is to be expected.

Sitting on the bench, staring at the playground, he’s lost in his thoughts.

“Thank you for saying yes to this,” Namjoon’s voice drifts into his ears, and it’s the sweetest sound Jin’s heard in a while, second only to Taehyung’s every word.

“I should be the one saying thank you,” he says, turning to face the tall blonde. “Your child didn’t try to steal mine.” Jin chuckles at the memory.

“It’s amazing how young minds works, isn’t it?” Namjoon says, coming to sit next to him, eyes focused on the little boys chasing each other a few feet away. “How easy it is for them to believe and accept the most impossible things. They make things so simple, so uncomplicated. I wish as adults we could keep that sentiment.” Namjoon inhales deeply, and Jin feels it as if it’s his breath the man is taking.

“I know what you mean. I don’t have the heart to tell Taehyung that Jungkook can’t be his brother, and soon enough he’ll grow up and lose this innocence. To be honest, I’m sad that day has to come.” Jin just talks. He hasn’t been this raw about his feelings with a stranger in a while, and it feels good. Good and scary.

A small laugh, more like a poof of air escapes Namjoon’s lips, and Jin gets it, the feeling behind the sound. It’s the realization that one day you have to let go of the reins and allow this being that you’ve spent your life protecting to fall and get hurt because it’s the only way they’ll grow. It, Jin thinks, is the hardest part of parenthood.

“Taehyung’s a great kid; I see why Jungkook’s so infatuated. He’s never asked to have a friend over before, and I couldn’t say no.”

Namjoon’s gaze is focused on the playground in front of him, and Jin feels safe enough to stare without getting caught. The man is handsome, not in a god-among-men way; it’s more boy-next-door. He finds the author’s thick lips, long lashes, and dark, thoughtful eyes intriguing. There’s a softness to Namjoon that’s in direct contrast to the almost stoic scholarly vibe he gives off.

A yelp of pain rings out from the area where the boys are playing.

“Jungkook-” Namjoon’s up from his spot next to Jin in seconds, and he follows on the man’s heels.

“Appa, Appa, Kookie felled off the swing set,” Taehyung’s informs him, kneeling beside the fallen child.

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Jin asks, moving Jimin’s hand off Jungkook’s arm so he can examine the little boy better. “It’s okay Jimin-ah, he’ll be fine. Can you take Tae and go over to your Appa?” Jimin nods and pulls a non-cooperative Taehyung along.

“I wanna stay with Jungkook,” Taehyung whines close to tears.

“I know you do, sweetie, but Appa needs the room to make sure Jungkook’s not hurt. I promise, as soon as I’m finished, you and Jimin can come back, okay?”

Taehyung nods and reluctantly follows Jimin to Hoseok.

“Jungkook, sweetie, can you sit up?” The little boy nods and slowly makes his way into a seated position. “Tell me if this hurts, okay?” JIn begins touching portions of Jungkook’s little body, assessing the child’s pain and making sure there are no broken bones.

Jungkook doesn’t respond adversely to the touching.

“I think he’s fine, just had the wind knocked out of him a bit.” The blonde nods, and Jin can see relief flood the man’s face.

“Maybe I should take him home?” Namjoon asks, but it’s not a real question as much as the statement of a worried parent.

“No, Appa, no,” Jungkook answers hurriedly. “I promise not falled down anymore.”

“I think he’s okay. Maybe let’s have some lunch first and then see how he’s feeling.” Jin’s equally as anxious as the child to not have the day end.

“Okay,” Namjoon says slowly, “if you think he’s good.”

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Jin answers too quickly and looks up to see Hoseok grinning at him. He ignores the man.

They help Jungkook to his feet, and the little boy takes off running in the direction of a very relieved Taehyung and Jimin.

“I guess he’s more than fine,” Namjoon says with a slight chuckle, watching the trio embrace in a group hug.

“I’m an excellent doctor,” Jin says jokingly.

“That you are,” Namjoon agrees instantly.

 

 ****

“So, what’s your story Mr. Manager,” Hoseok asks Yoongi who seated next to him at te picnic table.

“Story?” the man questions, deep scratchy voice swallowing around the word.

“Mmm, how’d you end up a part of this family?” he asks, pointing in Namjoon’s direction.

“Oh. Namjoon and I have been friends since middle school. We grew up in the same neighborhood,” Yoongi answers. “How about you?” Yoongi rocks his head in Jin’s direction.

“Ah, Jimin and Taehyung met at the playground and have been friends ever since.”

“You’re son’s adorable,” Yoongi says suddenly, and Hoseok beams with pride.

“I love him to the moon and back. Makes my world spin, you know?”

“Yeah, I kind of do. I mean Jungkook’s not my son, but I've helped raise him, and I honestly can't imagine my life without him and Namjoon in it,” Yoongi’s says, eyes finding the little boy across the table.

“Are you and Namjoon-”

“No, no we’re just friends,” Yoongi cuts him off before he can ask the entire question. “How about you and the doctor?”

“Same, just friends.” Hoseok may have answered too quickly.

Yoongi nods his head, and Hoseok wonders what the action means.

They eat in silence for the rest of lunch. The play date ends approximately two hours later to the cries of the three boys begging not to be separated and is only pacified when another play date is arranged.

“Namjoon seems nice,” Hoseok comments as they drive home.

“Mmm, he is,” Jin answers him.

“So, were you able to assess your feelings better?”

“No, not really. I’m still very much attracted, and he’s still very much unattainable.” Jin sounds defeated, and Hoseok wishes there was something he could say.

“His friend seems very nice,” Hoseok says out the blue, and he’s not sure why.

“Yoongi? Yes, he’s like Jungkook’s outdoor dad from what I can piece together. He and Namjoon seem very close. Maybe--”

“No, they’re not. I asked,” Hoseok says before Jin can make the assumption.

“You did?”

“Yeah, it just happened during our conversation.”

“You just happened to ask Yoongi if he and Namjoon were dating?” Jin looks at Hoseok suspiciously.

“Yup.” He didn’t have an ulterior motive. The question just seemed right at the time. “I was curious so I asked. He asked if you and I were, and I told him no.”

“How did you two even end up on this topic of conversation?”

“Hyung, I’m a spy, trained in the art of getting information,” Hoseok jokes, and Jin chuckles. “Namjoon’s scared his ex is going to try and take Jungkook away. He’s dealing with a lot,” he says out of the blue, his mind running back to his and Namjoon’s shared fear.

“How do you do that? Talk to people so easily? It took me the entire outing to speak to him, and even then, he approached me.”

“He overheard my conversation with my mother, and I guess he felt a kinship, maybe?” Hoseok’s not sure how to explain.

“Ahh, well I’m glad he’s found a friend in you,” Jin says, and Hoseok doesn’t say anymore. He and Jin are friends, and he doesn’t want the man to think he's trying to move in on his territory.

 

 ****

“That went well,” Yoongi says to Namjoon as he turns into the parking lot of the man’s complex.

“Mmm,” Namjoon responds, his fingers are playing with the strands of Jungkook’s hair.

The little boy had fallen asleep after crawling into his father’s lap during the drive.

“How do you feel?” Yoongi asks.

Namjoon has gone through a lot in the last week and a half, and he’s worried that it might be too much. Yoongi knows Namjoon is trying to be strong, trying to overcome, but he doesn’t want his friend to have a relapse that ends him up in the hospital.

“I’m good, hyung. I swear. Today wasn’t stressful, even when Jungkook fell. Honestly, it was good that Seokjin was there. It made me less scared knowing there was a doctor present.”

“Me too,” Yoongi says as he turns to face Namjoon in the back seat.

“Jennie called,” Namjoon says suddenly, and a bolt of anger flashes through Yoongi’s veins. He’s grown to hate that name.

“What did she want?” His voice is hard and cold, but he doesn’t care.

“She wants to see Jungkook.”

“What? Fuck, no. I hope you told her when hell freezes over.”

The day that sent Namjoon to the hospital was the day that Yoongi wrote Jennie off as a human being. The girl had always been impulsive, and in the beginning, when they were younger and less responsible, he found that trait refreshing. But the day she left her toddler son in a train station, calling him an hour later and sending Namjoon into a state of shock that he never quite recovered from, was the day Yoongi wrote Jennie off as a person who deserved to be saved.

“I hung up on her.” Namjoon’s response makes him smile.

“Good for you.” Yoongi’s proud of Namjoon. Jennie’s always been the man’s weakness.

He was pissed at Namjoon the day he told Yoongi he’d be adopting Jennie’s baby. They were in the first year of college, barely adults, and the child wasn’t his. He told Namjoon he was stupid, and that he wasn’t going to be sticking around to help him. He lied, of course. The first time he laid eyes on Jungkook, it was love at first sight.

“I’m worried, hyung. Jennie is his biological parent. Legally I have no rights here.” Namjoon’s voice trembles, and Yoongi’s blood boils hotter.

“Namjoon, no legal system worth its shit is going to give custody to that bitch. Not after what she did,” Yoongi spits out the statement with venom.

“Hyung, please. I know she’s not your favorite person, but please. She’s still Jungkook’s mom,” Namjoon begs, and Yoongi relents.

“Fine, but if she calls me, I’m telling her exactly what I think of her,” he informs Namjoon.

“I think she’s very aware of how you feel about her, hyung,” Namjoon says, and despite the situation, there’s a hint of laughter in the man’s deep voice.

“I was pretty verbal that day,” Yoongi agrees. “I honestly wanted to hurt her, Joon, not just for leaving Jungkook, but for what she did to you. I’ve never been that angry before, and it made me angrier that she had that kind of power over me. I don’t want her to hurt Jungkook; he’s too sweet a kid for that.”

“I don’t either hyung. I’m just worried is all,” Namjoon says softly.

“I’m here, Joon; we’ll get through it, like we always do.”

Namjoon nods, and Yoongi opens his door and gets out. He opens the back door and takes a still sleeping Jungkook from Namjoon’s arms so that the man can climb out of the seat.

“Thanks, hyung,” Namjoon says as he steps out of the car, “for everything.”

 

 ****

“Appa, your phone is dancing on the table,” Taehyung tells Jin.

Jimin’s spending the night, and the two boys are right now sitting on the floor of the living room in the midst of what looks like all of Taehyung’s toys. Jin shakes his head as he passes them to pick up his phone off the television stand. He’s not sure he wants to know how it ended up there. He has a sneaking suspicion he’ll soon be seeing a bill for games that he didn’t order.

“Hey guys, let’s start cleaning up,” he instructs the duo as he hits the answer button. “Hello,” he says into the receiver, leaning over what he thinks is a tower to pick up his discarded phone case.

“Hello, Seokjin-sshi?” Namjoon’s voice sounds tired, and Jin’s momentarily stunned at realizing Namjoon’s the caller.

“Namjoon?” he asks, even though he knows the answer.

“Yes, sorry for calling you out of the blue like this, but Yoongi’s in Japan and Jungkook has been feeling sick, and it’s a bad day. I-I don’t think I can…uhm, could you possibly come over?” Namjoon’s sounds like he’s on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jin answers instantly, then remembers that he has both Jimin and Taehyung. “I’ll have to bring Jimin and Taehyung with me, is that okay with you?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Also, please don’t feel burdened. If you can’t come, I’ll try to get him to the ER.” Jin can hear it clearly in the father’s voice; Namjoon won’t make it if he has to take Jungkook out of the house tonight.

“No, I’m good. I’ll be ther—uhm, I don’t actually know where you live.”

“Ahh, right, sorry. I’ll text you my address once we disconnect, that way you’ll have it on your phone,” Namjoon tells him.

“Okay, great. Let me get the kids dressed, and we’ll leave. What are Jungkook’s symptoms, so I know what I'm working with?” Jin grabs a pad and a pen from the counter top.

“He’s had a cough that I’ve been monitoring for the last three days, but today’s he’s been complaining of a stomach ache and he’s running a bit of a fever. I’m sorry to burden you like this,” Namjoon apologizes yet again.

“Namjoon-sshi, I gave you my number for this reason. Plus, Taehyung would be very angry at me if I didn’t take good care of his little brother. So stop apologizing to me.” He hears Namjoon sigh on the phone.

“Okay, hyung,” it’s the first time since their introduction almost two months ago that Namjoon has used the title, and Jin can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“Okay, sit tight. Also, if you have Jungkook under covers, remove them. Let’s not do anything that could cause him to get warmer. I’ll stop at the pharmacy on my way over and pick up some medication and clear liquids.” Jin’s in a mix of doctor mode and protector mode.

“Okay, see you soon,” Namjoon says before disconnecting the call.

“Taehyung, you and Jimin need to pack up. Jungkook’s not feeling well, and Appa needs to check on him.”

“Kookie’s sick?” Taehyung asks. Both boys look up at Jin with worry in their little eyes.

“Yes, but Appa’s going make sure he feels better, okay?”

He shoots a quick message to Hoseok as he loads the kids into his car. He pulls up Namjoon’s text and is surprised to find that man doesn’t live very far away. After a brief stop at the pharmacy, he makes his way to the address on his phone. Thirty minutes after Namjoon’s phone call, Jin’s ringing the blonde’s doorbell.

Jungkook’s curled in the fetal position on his bed, eyes drowsy and skin a rosy red complexion from the fever. The child is warm to the touch but doesn’t show any signs of pain when Jin pushes on his stomach.

“I think it’s most likely just a bug. His fever is low grade, and he’s not experiencing any pain right now. I gave him a fever reducer, and he’ll probably be knocked out for the rest of the night.” Jin says to Namjoon who's sitting in the living room in between Taehyung and Jimin, each curled into one of the man’s sides.

“Can we say goodnight to Kookie?” Taehyung asks sleepily, sitting up on the couch.

“Mmm, but don’t make too much noise, okay?” Taehyung grabs Jimin’s hand, and the two quietly walk to Jungkook’s room.

“Aren’t you worried they catch what Kook has?” Namjoon asks.

“I’m honestly more worried about the crying I’d have to deal with if I said no,” Jin answers truthfully; he’s too tired to handle crying children.

“Do you, uhm, want some coffee, tea, or I, uhm, have juice too,” Namjoon’s asks awkwardly.

“No, thank you for asking though. I should probably get Tae and Jimin home; it’s late.” He looks at his watch. “When did it become ten o’clock?” Jin sighs.

He and Namjoon make small talk as he waits for Jimin and Taehyung to return. When fifteen minutes have passed with no sign of the two boys, Namjoon and Jin walk to Jungkook’s room. They find the trio asleep with Taehyung on Jungkook’s left and Jimin on the boy’s right.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” Jin says, turning to face Namjoon. “I’m honestly not sure what to do.”

“They can stay if you want. I mean, they’re already asleep, and if they’re anything like Jungkook, once you wake them up, they’re up for good.”

“I’m fine with leaving Tae, but let me make sure it’s okay with Hoseok that I leave Jimin.”

Jin steps into the hallway and makes a quick call to Hoseok before reentering the room.

“Okay, he’s fine with it. I have an early morning round at the hospital tomorrow, but I can come pick them up once I’m through. Are you okay with keeping them for a couple of hours in the morning?” He doesn’t want to burden the already overwhelmed man.

“Yes, of course. It’s the least I can do, hyung. Thank you so much for tonight.” Namjoon looks so soft and so vulnerable that Jin has to fight the urge to reach up and run his hand along the contours of the man’s face.

“Okay, I better go then. If you need anything, call me. No matter what time, just call me.” Jin stares a beat too long, and Namjoon nods.

Jin leaves a lot of important things at Namjoon’s home that night, his child, his best friend’s child, and feelings that he can’t seem to escape.

 

 ****

Namjoon wakes up to soft giggles and tiny voices trying but failing to be hushed. He smiles, hearing Jungkook’s laughter. This morning feels different, new somehow. He doesn’t feel weighed down by the dread of having to make it through another day. Maybe it was waking up to the sound of happy, carefree laughter. Maybe it was because he went to bed knowing that if he called, Seokjin would come, that even with Yoongi gone, there was still someone on his side. He smiles again, remembering Seokjin’s look just before leaving; there was something there, written on the doctor’s face, in his eyes, something that Namjoon felt untangling all the tension in his gut and dropping in tiny seeds of hope.

He exhales and kicks the covers off to get out of the bed. Slipping on his house shoes, he shuffles to the hall, intending to check on the boys, when the door bell rings.  He opens the door without any real conscious thought and finds Seokjin standing on the other side with two cups of what he assumes is coffee in his hands.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” the tall man with the broad shoulders and the world’s most enchanting smile says. “So I got you an Americano with one cream and one sugar.”

“That’s perfect, to be very honest.” As the words come tumbling out his mouth, Namjoon gets a whiff of his breath, and his face reddens with embarrassment. “Oh my god, why?” He leaves Seokjin at the door and runs to the bathroom.

When Namjoon returns from brushing his teeth and washing his face, looking more human, he finds the doctor still standing in the foyer, awkwardly balancing the two cups in his hand.

“Wow, I am the world’s most horrible host. Please, please come in." He takes the cups from the Seokjin’s hand and ushers him into the living room. “The boys are in Jungkook’s room if you want to go check on them. I’ll join you after I put these in the kitchen.”

After placing the drinks on the counter top, Namjoon walks down the hall to Jungkook’s room. He finds Jin standing in front of the bed. The covers are rumpled, and the outline of three tiny people can be seen beneath the Cars comforter. Jin turns to face Namjoon, his index finger over his lips.

“Are you sure they’re in here?” Jin asks, winking at Namjoon.

He plays along.

“I could have sworn I heard them in here a while ago. It’s for the best, I guess,” Namjoon says, sitting on the edge of Jungkook’s bed, doing his best to pretend he doesn’t hear the tiny giggles coming from the sheets.

“Oh, why’s that?” Jin asks.

“Well, I was thinking it's about time to do something new in here, like you know, getting rid of this old lumpy mattress.” Namjoon pats the bed with his hand. “I’m not sure when it got this lumpy.”

“Namjoon-sshi don’t be silly. Why waste your money on a new mattress?” Jin says, and Namjoon angles his head, eyeing the man curiously. “Everyone knows all you have to do is pound the lumps out.”

“Wait? What?” Namjoon feigns surprise. “You can just pound lumps out of a mattress?”

“Oh yeah. My mom taught me how. Want me to show you?” Jin winks, and Namjoon fights the chuckle that’s on the tip of his tongue.

“Of course. Think of all the money and time I’ll be saving,” Namjoon says over the whispers coming from the bed.

“It’s pretty simply really; you just start randomly thumping away like this.” Jin starts patting his hands aimlessly over the mattress each hit is met with squeals of laughter.

“Oh, you mean like this?” Namjoon asks before throwing himself back lightly and shimming on top of the comforter.

The trio under the covers grows louder, rolling and tumbling about in the bed until tiny hands and unkempt hair peek from beneath the pile of rumpled blankets.

“Oh my, Namjoon, your lumps are so noisy,” Jin says, the corners of his eyes crinkling with laughter.

“We’re not lumps, Uncle Seokjin, we're boys,” Jungkook giggles out.

“You have to call him Appa,” Taehyung says suddenly. “We’re brothers ‘member.”

Namjoon stumbles from the bed, startled by Taehyung’s words.

“But he’s not my Appa, though,” Jungkook states.

“S’okay, cause we’re brothers,” Taehyung answers, and it’s so innocent and so pure that Namjoon doesn’t have the heart to disagree.

“Oh,” Jungkook says, the side of his eyes slowly crinkling as though trying to figure out why he hadn’t known this truth. “So, you can call my Appa, Appa, because we’re brothers, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Taehyung nods his head. “Isn’t that right, Appa?”

Namjoon looks at Seokjin, and the man looks like a deer caught in headlights, lips slightly parted and eyes wide, staring at his child in confused terror.

“Mmm, that’s right, Tae,” Namjoon answers on a whim.

“See, I told you,” Taehyung says with satisfaction.

Once the boys are out of bed and Seokjin has checked Jungkook out, giving Namjoon two thumbs up, the two men finally end up in the kitchen to drink their coffee.

“Thank you for doing that, Namjoon-sshi. I don’t want him to be disappointed, and I’m not exactly sure how to get him to understand that he and Jungkook are not related. My last foray into that arena had my child crying for an hour, and to be honest, I’m not strong enough to go through that again,” Seokjin admits, running a hand through his hair.

“You know, you can stop talking to me formally. I-I mean, if you, uhm, want to,” Namjoon squawks out awkwardly.

“I’d like that. You can do the same. My friends usually call me Jin. Or hyung, hyung is fine too, but really, what ever you’re, uhm, comfortable with is fine, uhm, good.” Namjoon doesn’t feel so bad, given Jin’s equally gawky response.

“Okay then, Jin hyung,” Namjoon lets the name roll off his tongue. He likes it. He likes that he and Jin are friends. “Also, I’m okay if Taehyung wants to call me dad. I’m not sure if it’s the right way to deal with the situation, but Jungkook’s never been happier. He finally feels like a five-year-old and not just a tiny adult who has to shoulder the burden of having a defective father. So it’s me that should be thanking you, not the other way around.”

“You’re not defective, Namjoon. From what I have witnessed, you’re an amazing parent. Jungkook adores you, and Taehyung talks about you as though you are his father. My child may be a social butterfly, but he doesn’t let others in easily. Before Jungkook, Jimin and Hoseok were the only people he’d ever allowed to get close.” Jin sighs, and Namjoon feels the weight of it. “Perhaps it’s because he lost his mother at such a young age, but whatever the reason, he’s not one for change. But he’s willing to call you dad, and that says something to me because my child, for all his eccentricities, is an excellent judge of character. You’re not broken, Namjoon. From where I’m standing, you’re perfect.” Jin gasps, and Namjoon looks up, shocked by the man’s words.

“Uhm,” he’s not sure how to respond. He opens his mouth several times only to close it wordlessly.

“Oh my God,” Jin starts, “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable; I didn’t mean anything weird. I just wanted you to know that I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” Jin’s cheeks turn crimson, and Namjoon finds the man’s discomfort somewhat endearing.

“Thank you, hyung,” he answers after a while. “I appreciate your kind words.” Jin looks like he’s about to say something else when his phone beeps, startling both him and Namjoon.

“Oh, shit, I have to go,” Jin says after looking at his phone. “I’m working the children’s emergency room today. Taehyung, Jimin, we have to go guys.”

“Appa, can’t we stay longer?” Taehyung asks as he comes running down the hall to the kitchen.

“Not today, buddy. I’m sorry appa has to go to work, and Uncle Hoseok misses Jimin,” Jin explains to the pouting child.

“But, but are we gonna see Jungkook again soon?”

“You’ll see him in school on Monday, and Jungkook’s Appa and I will make a plan for another play date, okay?”

Taehyung’s not happy, but he is appeased for the moment.

“Bye Kookie,” Taehyung says somberly as he pulls Jungkook into a hug.

“Bye,” Jungkook says, equally as sad.

“Bye Kookie,” Jimin chimes in, lips turned down.

“Bye Minnie.” Jungkook looks like he’s two seconds away from bursting into tears.

“How about next weekend,” Namjoon interjects, “for the play date. “Are you working next weekend?”

“No, I’m not. Next weekend sounds great. Doesn’t it, Tae?”

The little boy nods.

“We can, uhm, do it here, if-if you’d like. I can order pizza and maybe get a couple of movies or something.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds great,” Jin says, nodding his head incessantly up and down like a bobblehead.

‘Okay, then it’s a, uhm--”

“A date,” Jin finishes the sentence, and this time it’s Namjoon who turns crimson.

“Mmm, a date,” he repeats.

Jin leaves, taking a very reluctant Jimin and Taehyung with him.

Namjoon leans against the door after the man leaves. His heart’s racing, and he feels flushed. He’s inadvertently managed to turn his son’s play date into what feels like a very real date with Kim Seokjin, Manga doctor. Namjoon fans his face with his hand.

“Are you okay, Appa?” Jungkook looks concerned.

“Yes, Appa’s fine. So buddy, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?” he asks, trying to distract his racing mind.

“I want to spend the day with you, Appa,” Jungkook replies.

Namjoon smiles, and it’s wide, so wide his cheeks begin to hurt. Leaning down, he pulls the little boy into a tight hug.

“That makes happy, very happy, Kookie, very, very happy.”

 

 ****

“You rang?” Hoseok answers Jin’s call with his usual flair.

“First, thank you again for keeping Tae this morning. Second, my son and I had a very interesting conversation about family on the way home this afternoon.” Jin can almost see the wheels in Hoseok’s head turning, fishing for an explanation.

“About that,” the man starts slowly, “I was trying to rectify my faux pas that nearly led to his career as a professional kidnapper.”

“I see, and how did that go? Because from what I gathered from our extended, very detailed conversation on the way home is not only is Jungkook still his brother, but now Jimin is his cousin?” Jin tries to keep the laughter out of his voice but fails miserably.

“It’s not funny. I was trying to explain to your child that people with the same last name aren’t always related, and sometimes people with different last names _are_ related.” Hoseok takes a deep breath before continuing. “Then I made the mistake of using Jimin as an example of how cousins are related but don’t always have the same last name, which led to—'Jimin’s my cousin?' That, right there is where I lost not only the battle but the war, because by the time your five-year-old was done, Jungkook was still his brother, Jimin was his cousin, and families should all live together in a big, big house—with a pool.”

Jin has tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. He can just picture a poor flustered Hoseok being bulldozed by an energetic, over-excited Taehyung.

“A pool, huh?”

“Taehyung could sell a freezer to an Eskimo,” Hoseok deadpans.

“That’s an accurate statement. He somehow was able to convince Namjoon to let him call him Appa.”

“Shit, seriously?” Hoseok laughs on the other end of the line. “How the fuck did he do that?”

Jin is about to answer when he hears a very shocked Jimin tell Hoseok he just said two bad words, and bad words are bad.

“You’re right, sweetie, they are bad. Appa is very sorry. Now go in your room and play for a bit, okay?” Hoseok’s voice sounds muffled, as though his hand is on the mouth piece. “Shit, that child has a bat-like hearing, I swear to God.”

“Hoseok!” Jin exclaims in fake shock. “You said another bad word; bad words are baaad.”

“Suck my di-“

“Appa, can I have ice cream?” Jin hears Jimin yell, cutting Hoseok off.

“Dimples? Dictionary? Dispenser? Diaper?” Jin rattles of words that start with the letters “di.”

“Maybe later, sweetie,” Hoseok comes through muffled once again. “I’m going to tell Namjoon what a horrible person you are.” Hoseok says when his attention returns to their conversation.

Jin snickers at the remark.

“Speaking of Namjoon, he may have accidentally asked me on a date. I mean, it’s not; it’s a play date for the kids. Cousin Jimin has to come as well, by the way, because he’s family.”

“How exactly did a play date become a date?”

“It’s not--I just said it, but it isn’t, it just felt like it. There was, uhm—a moment.” Jin wants to facepalm. He sounds like an idiot or a character from a romantic comedy.

“A moment?” Hoseok asks, and Jin can picture the man’s face, smug look and brows arched questioningly.

“Yeah, there was a look,” Jin tries explaining but feels like he's just digging himself into a hole.

“A look?”

“Will you quit repeating the last words of my sentences? Are you a parrot?”

“Parrot?”

“Hoseok!”

“Okay, okay,” Hoseok’s laughing. “Consider it pay back for Taehyung traumatizing me. What kind of look? Did he stare longing into your eyes? Did he stare lustfully like he wanted to bend you over something and have his way with you?”

“Seriously, why are we friends?”

“Beats me,” Hoseok answers so quickly Jin is taken aback for a brief second.

“It was that look, you know the one, where you realize that there may be more going on than you thought.”

“Wait, who had the look, you or Namjoon?”

“Him? Me? Both? I don’t know; I just know there was a moment, and it meant something.” Jin runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “It doesn't matter because it passed and I did nothing. Anyways, the play date is next weekend. Can Jimin come?” Jin hopes to change the topic to Hoseok’s favorite subject, his little Jimin.

“Yeah, that actually would be good. I’m having lunch with my parents, and I didn’t want to take him. I’m not ready for him to meet them,” Hoseok says with a heavy sigh.

“If you want, he can spend the weekend with Tae and me. It’ll give you a solid excuse to give your parents.”

“Thanks, hyung. Also, I like him for you, Namjoon. I like him; he’s a sound human.”

“Thanks, Jay," Jin uses his nickname for the man. "I appreciate that.”

“Anytime, hyung, anytime.”

“Mmm, I think I need to go. Taehyung’s unusually quiet for a Sunday afternoon. Dear Lord, please don’t let him have unrolled all the toilet paper off the rolls. It’s a fucking pain to roll them back.” Jin hangs up to Hoseok’s laughter on the other end of the line.

 

 ****

Namjoon makes a decision, one he knows he’ll probably regret later, but he wants to try to break out of the shell of fear that he’s cocooned himself in. He wants to be an example to his son. Most importantly, he wants his life back. Also, he needs to get Jungkook out of the house before the child hurts himself beyond repair. A few minutes prior Namjoon had walked into the kitchen to find all the drawers opened like a staircase with Jungkook in the process of climbing them to get on the counter because he needs to rescue the princess... the cookie jar on the top of the refrigerator.

“Kookie, let’s go to the park,” he says suddenly.

“Are you sure, Appa?” Jungkook looks concerned, almost worried, and it strengthens Namjoon’s resolve.

“Yes, Appa is very certain. You and I are going to the park, without uncle Yoongi. Just us two.”

The look on Jungkook’s face hurts him more than he can say. The child isn’t happy or excited. Instead, there’s trepidation in his son’s eyes. Namjoon’s heart bleeds as he watches his son worry his lips as though he wants to tell Namjoon it’s not a good idea.

Something in the child’s look strengthens his resolve even more. At the age of five, Jungkook, instead of being excited about spending time outside, is more concerned about his father’s mental health. This is not the childhood he wants Jungkook to have; he doesn’t want his child to look back and resent him.

“Yes, Appa is very sure. Go put on your shoes and get your outside toys.” The little boy looks at him for a solid three seconds before trotting to his room, rattling off a list of items he wants to bring as he goes. “Uhm, I don’t think we’ll be able to carry all of that, Kookie. How about the scooter, the basket ball, and your remote control plane?”

“Mmm, okay,” Jungkook responds.

Ten minutes later, they’re out the door, riding the elevator to the lobby.

“Appa, thank you for taking me outside,” Jungkook says, leaning his head against Namjoon’s hip.

“You’re welcome sweetie,” he answers, using a hand to ruffle Jungkook’s hair.

They arrive at the park fifteen minutes later; the walk was enjoyable, with Jungkook chattering the entire way. Namjoon takes a seat on the benches near the playground so he can keep an eye on Jungkook. The little boy takes off the instant they arrive, leaving Namjoon to man all the toys in favor of the jungle gym pirate ship. 

“Jungkook, be careful,” he warns the child who’s hanging upside down from the monkey bar.

His phone starts buzzing, vibrating in the pocket of his oversized cardigan, tickling his side. This time around he recognizes the number. Jennie has called several times since the time he hung up on her; he hasn’t been avoiding her per say as much as he was preparing himself for a conversation he will never be ready to have. He looks at the number flashing across the screen, then gazes at Jungkook who’s talking quite animatedly to a little girl in a princess dress. The phone continues to wiggle in his hand.

“What do you want, Jennie,” he asks, steeling himself for her reply.

She inhales deeply on the line before answering.

“I just want to see him, oppa.”

“Don’t call me that. I was never your oppa. I was just a toy for you to use and discard,” he bites out.

“You were never a toy to me, never. I know I screwed up—am a screw-up, but you’re the one real constant in my life, you and Jungkook. You, no matter what you believe, were never something for me to play with.” Jennie sounds sincere, so sincere, and Namjoon wants to believe her but he can’t.

“Why? After all these years, why now?” He ignores her confession.

Jennie’s silent, and Namjoon thinks the call has dropped.

“Because I miss him. Because he’s my son. Just because…” she doesn’t finish the thought.

“You need to do better than that, Jennie. This isn’t a game, and I’m not the same person I was before you left. Life doesn’t revolve around you anymore. You screwed up royally, and Jungkook was almost hurt because of it. I don’t trust you. So if you want to see him, you need to do better than what you just did.”

“I get that, and you shouldn’t. I’m not asking to take him to live with me; I just want to see him. You don’t even have to tell him who I am,” she says desperately. Namjoon knows she means it, but he doesn't care.

“I won’t; you haven’t earned that title. I can’t give you an answer right now. Is this your number?”

“Mmm,” she answers sullenly.

“I’ll text you once I make a decision. Please don’t call me again,” he tells her before disconnecting the call.

“Appa, Appa, did you see me? I swingded, really high, then I jumpded off, and I flied,” Jungkook says excitedly.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing, Kook. I’m so proud of you. Are you having fun?” Namjoon questions, remembering the child’s earlier hesitation.

“Mmm, I’m glad we comed,” Jungkook answers.

“Came, you’re glad we came,” Namjoon corrects the little boy.

“Mmm, yes, came. Can we came again tomorrow?” Namjoon laughs out loud at the child’s question.

“We’ll see how things go tomorrow. Are you finished playing?”

“I’m hungry,” Jungkook answers with a nod of his head.

“Okay, help me gather your things. Let’s go home and eat.”

Jungkook rides his scooter back, staying close to Namjoon’s side.

“Appa, are you going to do another magic trick?” Jungkook asks out of the blue.

“Magic trick?” Namjoon asks, somewhat confused.

“’Member when you made the pot fly?”

Namjoon laughs so hard he has tears in eyes, only to end up laughing harder at the look of confusion written all over Jungkook’s face.

“Appa told you he doesn’t repeat his magic tricks.” He tries to sound serious.

“When I growed up will I be able to do magic tricks too?”

“Sweetie, when you grow up, you’ll be able to do anything you want to do,” Namjoon says as he gently pats Jungkook on the head.

“Really?” The little boy’s eyes are wide.

“Really,” Namjoon confirms.

 

 ****

“Off with their heads!” Jimin exclaims as he run through the halls of their spacious penthouse.

Hoseok sits in the armchair by the window, a book resting in his lap. He regrets reading Alice In Wonderland to the child. For the last thirty minutes, Jimin’s been pretending to be The Queen Of Hearts and has arbitrarily been cutting the head off of everything in sight, including their poor cat Sushi who’s currently hiding from the youngster under Hoseok’s chair.

“Jimin, sweetie, there are other characters in the story. You know that right?” he asks the child, somewhat concerned by his affinity to the Queen.

Jimin stops running and comes to stand in front his dad. A sweet smile graces the child’s plump, red lips.

“Appa, can I have ice cream?”

“You already had ice cream, but you can get ready to have a bath,” Hoseok says excitedly.

Jimin quietly studies him for a moment before replying.

“Off with your head,” the little boy says dramatically before dissolving into a puddle of giggles on the floor by Hoseok’s feet.

“Off with my head, off with my head,” Hoseok gets on the floor beside Jimin and begins tickling the youngster who’s laughing so hard he begins to cough.

“I’d never off your head, Appa; I love you too much,” Jimin informs him as he sits up on the floor.

“I love you too, pumpkin, so much. More than anything,” he says as he pulls Jimin into his lap

“Even more than ice cream?” Jimin asks.

“Way more than ice cream. Wait, do you love ice cream more than me?” Hoseok can’t help but side-eye the little boy.

“Uhm, I like ice cream a lot. It’s my favorite thing, but I love you the bestest, Appa.”

“Appa loves you the bestest, too,” Hoseok declares, snuggling Jimin into his chest. “It’s time for your bath; you have school tomorrow.”

“Yay! I get to see Kookie and Taetae and do number stories,” Jimin rattles off excitedly.

“Number stories?”

“Uh-huh, our teacher tells us stories using numbers, and it’s fun.  Like the time six got scared because seven ate nine.” Jimin falls back on the floor in a fit of giggles, and it’s contagious because before long, Hoseok finds himself on the floor next to the child, holding his stomach and laughing right alongside Jimin.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out and peers at the screen. The number is familiar but mostly unknown.

“Hello,” Hoseok says after swiping to answer the call.

“Hello, Hoseok-sshi?”

“Yes. Who is this?” Hoseok asks. The voice sounds familiar as well; the name of the owner is on the tip of his tongue.

It’s Namjoon, Kim Namjoon. I’m so sorry to bother you, but you told me to call if I needed to talk. Usually I would call Yoongi, but he’s out of the country and his cell doesn't work. Do you mind if I ask you something?” Namjoon sounds nervous.

“Of course I don’t mind. It’s why I gave you my number. Let me just get Jimin bathed and in bed, then we can talk. Mind if I call you back in like twenty minutes?”

“No. No, that’s perfect actually. I’ll do the same with Jungkook. Okay, talk to you in a bit. Thank you Hoseok-sshi.”

“You’re welcome, and please be comfortable with me, just Hoseok is fine.”

“Okay, Hoseok, I’ll take to you soon. Also, please feel free to be comfortable with me as well,” Namjoon tells him, and Hoseok smiles.

“Okay, I’ll call you when I’m through.”

They disconnect.

Hoseok gives Jimin a bath and reads him two stories; forty minutes have passed since he and Namjoon disconnected their call. Once Jimin drifts off to sleep, he grabs his phone off the night stand in the child’s room and walks to the living room, plopping on the couch. Hitting send on Namjoon’s number, he sits back comfortably as the call rings.

“Hello,” Namjoon’s deep voice answers.

“Hey,” Hoseok replies. “Sorry it took me so long; his highness required two stories and an extra long bubble bath tonight.”

“That’s okay. Normally Jungkook does the same, but I took him to the park today so he was worn out by bed time.”

“Wish I had thought of that. So what’s up? What did you want to talk about?” Hoseok can’t find a better segue into the conversation, so he opts for jumping to the point.

“Well, uhm,” Namjoon starts, and Hoseok can feel the man’s discomfort.

“You don’t have to say anything you don’t want to,” he tells Namjoon. “I won’t be offended in any way.”

“I’m sorry I’m so awkward,” Namjoon says apologetically. “I only ever talk to Yoongi about things like this. I’m honestly not sure where to start.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me Namjoon; you haven’t done anything wrong. Just start with what you’re most comfortable sharing,” he encourages the writer.

“Uhm,” Namjoon sighs, “today while I was at the park, Jennie, that’s Jungkook’s mother, called.”

“Oh, wow,” Hoseok answers, slightly surprised. He hadn’t expected that Namjoon would confide in him, and he feels privileged. “What did she want?”

“To see Jungkook,” Namjoon responds immediately.

“Is that a bad thing?” Hoseok asks.

“Yes, at least I think so. She did something when Jungkook was younger, something that I have yet to forgive her for.”

“Was it something that put him in danger?” Hoseok probes.

“Yes,” again, Namjoon’s reply is swift.

“What was your response when she asked to see him?”

“I told her I’d think about it and get back to her,” Namjoon tells him.

“So, what are your thoughts?”

“I don’t know. On the one hand, I think she’s his mother and should be given a chance, not for her as much as for Jungkook. On the other hand, I’m worried she might do something that could harm him irrevocably. I’m just not sure which hand’s right.” Namjoon sighs on the line, and Hoseok can almost feel the weight of the decision that’s bearing down on the writer.

“I wish I could tell you, Namjoon. I honestly do. In my case, my parents don’t have the same rights. I keep Jimin away because I know the life they want him to lead, and I know that it will be harmful to him. But I also know that I’m keeping Jimin from knowing a part of himself. As much as I hate to admit it, they’re his family, and he has a right to know them. Jennie is Jungkook’s mom, and he has a right to know her, but you, as his father, have to decide when and how. If you’re worried about what Jennie will do, maybe have the visit be supervised.”

“I understand what you’re saying, and it makes sense. I’ll think about it and maybe ask Yoongi to be the chaperone,” Namjoon says thoughtfully, as though he’s formulating a plan in his mind as he talks to Hoseok.

“I think that’s a great idea; your tiny manager is scary as hell,” Hoseok says with a chuckle.

“Yoongi? Nah, his bark is way worse than his bite. He’s also not a fan of Jennie so he’ll probably keep her on a tight leash. Thank you for taking the time, Hoseok. You’ve given me some things to consider and a plan of action if I decide to let her see him.”

“You’re welcome Namjoon. I feel very honored that you chose to talk to me.”

“Is it awkward that I’m not sure how to respond to that?” Namjoon’s question makes Hoseok laugh.

“S’okay, I don’t need a response. Also, no it’s not awkward at all.”

Namjoon chuckles on the line.

“Thanks again, Hoseok. Have a good night.” Namjoon disconnects the call.

The screen on his phone says ten-thirty. It’s late; he and Namjoon talked for longer than he’d expected. Hoseok gets up from the chair, then leans down to turn off the lamp before walking to his bedroom. He needs to go to bed. Jimin has an early day tomorrow; Hoseok needs his beauty sleep.

 

 ****

It’s Thursday, and Jin’s nervous. To be fair, he’s been nervous since Sunday when he spoke to Namjoon. Even now, closing in on a full week later, it feels like they’ve scheduled somewhat of a grown up date. Logically he knows it’s not. Namjoon didn’t say anything that remotely sounded like a ‘hey let’s date, ’ but still, Jin can’t stop feeling like there’s something more happening between them. He feels drawn to Namjoon, like there's an invisible string tying him to the man, pulling them closer. He has an overwhelming need to keep the tall man, who’s more arms and legs than body, safe and protected.

“You’ve been super distracted all this week. What’s going on?” Tara asks, sliding into the chair facing Jin and dropping several charts on his desks. “You forgot to fill these out.”

“Shit. Sorry,” he apologizes.

“Also, you have been cursing a lot lately. What’s got you so stressed, boss?” The nurse looks at him with concern.

They met the first day of Jin’s rotation, and he liked her instantly. He jokingly promised her a job if he ever opened his own practice. Tara kept him to the promise when he actually did.

“I may like someone… Do, I do like someone. I’m not sure if the feeling’s reciprocated, though,” he tells her straight.

“That makes me happy. My husband and I were talking about you the other day, and I was telling him that I think it’s time you get back on the horse, so to speak. So I’m very happy to hear this.”

“You and your husband talk about me?” Jin eyes her curiously.

“Yes. Stop acting surprised; you know I tell him everything. Have you asked them? The person you’re interested in, have you talked about your feelings with them?”

“No, it’s not that simple. It’s, uhm, complicated.” Jin’s not sure how much to divulge.

“Look, you’re not going to know what someone thinks unless you ask. So no matter how complicated it may feel, if you want an answer, you need to open your mouth,” Tara says bluntly, and Jin can’t help but laugh.

“Yes, mom,” he chuckles, ducking when she throws a crumpled paper in his direction.

“Sign the charts; I’d like to go home today. Also, tell your human how you feel.”

He nods and grabs his pen as she walks out of the office. After signing the charts and adding the necessary notes, he leans back in his chair, head against the rest, and thinks about Tara’s words. He laughs to himself. Imagine the shock on Namjoon’s face he ever got up the nerve to tell the man how he feels or thinks he feels. Namjoon confuses him, excites him, makes him look forward to any day that he might get a glimpse of the tall blonde.

“Hey, you sign them?” Tara sticks her head into the office.

“Mmm,” he picks up the charts and stretches out his arms.

“Nice,” she says a she steps in to grab the paperwork. “I’m heading out after I file these. Do you need anything before I go?”

“No, I’m good.” He smiles at her. Just before she walks out of the office completely, he asks another question. “What if it freaks them out, my human? What if my feelings freak them out?”

“That’s the risk we all take to find true love. You accept it and move on, I guess, but it’s always better to know than to not know,” she replies honestly. Jin knows she’s right.

“Thanks, Tara. Tell hubby hello for me.”

“I will. Have a good night, boss.” With that, she’s gone, shutting his door behind her.

Jin sits at his desk a few more minutes, mind feeling somewhat blank. It’s been a long day, one that he’s spent mostly distracted. He sighs and gets up. It’s time to go home.

 

 ****

“How was the trip?” Namjoon asks as Yoongi walks through the door.

“It was good. The new chapters were well received, and it seems that they’re already thinking of a follow up to this book. Are you up for that?” Yoongi asks as he comes to sit next to Namjoon on the couch.

“Mmm, my plan was for this to be a series of five. I like this character a lot. He feels very organic, like I’ve found my pot of gold at the end of the proverbial writing rainbow,” Namjoon muses as he scoots over, making room for the shorter man.

“So, how’s it been?” Yoongi looks at him with concern.

“It’s been good, hyung. No freak outs or anything. I even took Kookie to the park by myself on Sunday. It was nice. Apart from when Jennie called.” Namjoon makes a face remembering the phone call.

“You took him by yourself?” Yoongi sounds both surprised and proud.

“Mmm, I wanted to. It felt like something I needed to do, you know?”

“That’s great, Namjoon-ah. I’m so proud of you,” Yoongi says, features soft, and Namjoon feels like a kid being praised by his parent. “What did Jennie want?” Yoongi almost growls the question, and Namjoon chuckles at how quickly the man’s demeanor changes.

“The same thing as before. She wants to see Jungkook.”

“D’fuck's wrong with her?” Yoongi spits out.

“I talked to Hoseok about it a bit on Sunday,” Namjoon starts.

“Hoseok? Oh, you mean the doctor’s friend, the one from the park?” Yoongi asks, and there’s something in the man’s voice that Namjoon can’t place.

“Mmm, he’s going through the same experience with his parents.”

“Ohh,” Yoongi says with a nod. “So, what did he say?”

“Well, he said that Jungkook has a right to know his mother. Which is true, but he also said that in the end, it’s my decision, and he suggested that if I did say yes to maybe have someone supervise the visit.”

“Mmm,” Yoongi says with another nod, and Namjoon can feel the displeasure bouncing off of Yoongi.

“I haven’t made a decision, but he's right; Jungkook should have a chance to know his mother. He was so young when she left. It’s weird that he’s never asked about her.” The thought hits Namjoon suddenly.

“Mother is to be applied loosely when talking about Jennie; she hasn’t done a single thing to earn the title. Also, Jungkook doesn’t ask because you fill all his needs. He doesn’t feel like he’s missing something. You’re a great parent, Namjoon. I agree that Jungkook does have the right to know his mother, but it doesn’t have to be now,” Yoongi says firmly.

“I know, but I also don’t want him to resent me for keeping them apart,” Namjoon says with a heavy sigh.

“You’re not. You didn’t send Jennie away; she left on her own. God, I get so freaking mad every time I think about that day. What if Kookie had fallen on the train tracks, Joonie? What if someone had taken him? I wanted to hurt her. A part of me still does.”

“I know, hyung. I think about that too, all the time. It’s why I can’t bring myself to trust her. The thing is, though, is that it’s still there, my love for her. It's not the same as when we were kids, but it’s there. That need to help her is still there, but at the same time, I want to cause her pain, wreak the same kind of havoc in her life that her selfish actions did to my life.” A small part of Namjoon wants vengeance, revenge on Jennie for breaking him.

“I don’t want her to see Jungkook, but I agree with Hoseok. In the end, it’s your decision.”

“I know.” Namjoon drops his head on Yoongi’s shoulder.

They sit quietly, not talking for the rest of the evening. Yoongi eventually leaves, and Namjoon goes to bed with a heavy heart.

 

****

“Appa, Appa, Appa,” Taehyung yells, plopping himself on top of Jin’s stomach.

He groans; he doesn’t need to look at the clock to know that it’s much too early for the child to be awake.

“Taehyung-ah, let Daddy sleep a little more, huh?” He begs the bouncing child.

“But it’s Sunday, and we get to see Appa Joon and Kookie and watch movies and bring Jimin, and it’s Sunday.” Jin smiles unconsciously at the thought of seeing Namjoon.

“It is, but Appa needs more sleep. Why don’t you go watch cartoons for a bit?” he asks, rolling over on his side, causing Taehyung to slide onto the mattress as he pulls a pillow over his head.

“Can I have cereal too?” Taehyung asks.

“Mmm,” he responds without really hearing.

“Yay!” Taehyung jumps down from the bed, and Jin is left in peace.

It takes about five minutes for him to shoot up straight in the bed, realizing that he’s just agreed to let Taehyung make cereal. The last time he allowed it, the child had managed to turn the kitchen into a swimming pool of milk. He moves as soon as his feet hit the floor, in a rush to reach the kitchen before Taehyung finds the milk.

He breathes a sigh of relief when he finds Taehyung sitting in the middle of the living room, blanket in his lap and television on.

“No, you’re not allowed,” Jin hears the child tell someone.

“Uhm, who are you talking to, Tae?” Jin asks carefully.

“Heentsyhotsy,” the child replies.

“Heentsyhotsy?” Jin’s surprised to hear the name. “I thought she was in heaven?”

“She was,” Taehyung shakes his head slightly, and a look of disappointment flickers across his little face. “but now she’s in jail again, and people in jail aren’t allowed to watch tv, right Appa?”

“Uhm, right?” Jin’s not sure how to answer the question having never been to prison. “How’d she end up in jail?”

“The police went up to the sky and draggeded her out.”

Jin tries not to laugh.

“Why did they do that?” Jin keeps his tone even.

Taehyung sighs deeply, shaking his head again, as though he can’t even believe the crime that Heentsyhotsy has committed.

“She kicked The Jesus and they calleded the police on her. You can’t kick Jesus, that’s bad,” Taehyung says the statement so seriously Jin can’t stop the snicker from escaping.

“Wow, that is bad indeed.” It’s the only reply he can make without laughing in awe of his child’s imagination.

“She doesn’t understand why it’s wrong. I’m trying to explaid it to her,” Taehyung leans forward and whispers the statement.

“Oh, you mean explain it to her?” Jin corrects him.

“That what I said, explaid it,” Taehyung repeats his mistake, and Jin lets it slide.

“Okay, well Appa will make you breakfast while you talk to Heentsyhotsy.” Jin ruffles Taehyung already messy hair before walking to the kitchen.

“Okay, Appa. No, you can’t have breakfast because you kicked Jesus,” he hears Taehyung say just before crossing the threshold, and he chuckles to himself.

 

 ****

Namjoon wakes up with his stomach in knots. He’s nervous and not sure why. It’s Sunday, and he’s invited Jin, Taehyung, and Jimin over. No Yoongi and no Hoseok, which means as the kids play, he and Jin will be alone, and Namjoon has butterflies. The doctor makes him nervous and jittery and excited. Not in a bad way, never in a bad way, however, Namjoon doesn’t quite understand why. He sits up, letting his feet dangle off the side of the mattress; he needs coffee.

He’s sitting on the couch sipping his dark brew when Jungkook walks into the living room, hair sticking in every direction, Ryan doll hitched under an arm and tucked at his side. The youngster climbs on the couch and snuggles into Namjoon’s side.

“You still sleepy, buddy?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips. He feels Jungkook nod his head against his chest. “You know happens today right?” Another nod.

“Jimin, Taetae, and Appa Jin are coming over,” Jungkook says sleepily.

Namjoon’s slightly taken back by the title attached to Jin’s name. He shouldn’t be; Jungkook uses it every time he says the man's name, but Namjoon’s jarred by the ease with which Jungkook accepts the man. He feels Jungkook shift against him and looks down to find the little boy looking up at him curiously.

“You okay, buddy?” he asks looking at the child fondly.

“Mmm, Appa. I like having a brother and a cousin and a Appa Jin,” Jungkook says as he mindlessly plays with the material of Namjoon’s t-shirt.

“I’m glad, sweetie.” Namjoon’s response is barely above a whisper.

The child’s words impact him in a way he can’t explain, tugging at his heart. It’s been him, Jungkook, and Yoongi for so long; it never dawned on him how lonely it may have been for the youngster. Jennie pops into his mind at that moment. Maybe Jungkook accepts Jin as easily as he does because deep down he knows something’s missing. He’s overthinking and he knows it, but now that the thought’s in his brain, he can’t escape it.

“Hey, what do you want for breakfast?” he asks, needing to do something.

“Spaghetti,” Jungkook declares, and Namjoon laughs.

“Uhm, no, try again.”

“Cereal?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes to cereal,” Namjoon says as he slips from beneath Jungkook.

“Can I have the one with colors that uncle Yoongi bought? It’s yummy and makes my milk blue,” Jungkook says, hopping off the couch and trotting behind Namjoon into the kitchen.

The morning goes by quickly after breakfast, and before Namjoon knows it, the afternoon has come. His door bell rings, and his heart begins racing once again.

 

 

 ****

Yoongi’s not angry when he pulls into the parking lot of Hoseok’s complex Sunday afternoon; he’s not. Somewhat irritated, yes, but not angry. He’s Namjoon’s advisor and Jungkook’s unofficial second parent. He’s the person Namjoon confides in about Jennie and life. Hoseok... Hoseok’s new and doesn’t know Namjoon’s history, so how dare he influence Namjoon’s decision about Jennie. It’s with the thought of letting Hoseok know he shouldn’t give advice without knowing a person’s backstory that he finds himself standing in the lobby of the man’s very upscale highrise building, about to take the personal elevator to Hoseok’s front door.

“D’fuck does he afford this?” Yoongi whispers to himself as he steps into the elevator. “Is he the fucking prince of Korea?”

The elevator opens to the only door on the floor, and Yoongi takes a deep breath before hitting the doorbell. The door opens seconds later without any request for information.

“Hey, you should at least ask wh-” Yoongi’s about to rebuke Hoseok for his disregard of personal safety.

“I said I was coming mother; I said nothing about Jimin also being there.” Hoseok’s voice sounds hard, almost angry, so different from the chipper, smiley persona Yoongi remembers from the park.

Hoseok beckons him in with a wave of his hand and shuts the door behind him.

“I-I didn’t say I was coming alone,” Hoseok looks at him, and Yoongi has a sneaking suspicion he's just been roped into something he doesn’t want to do. “Who am I bringing?” The look Hoseok gives him is one part frantic and one part apologetic. “My boyfriend, of course.”

_Well fuck, this was not supposed to happen._

Hoseok disconnects the call and immediately turns to face Yoongi.

“Please, please, please, I know we don’t know each other that well, but please, I won’t survive if I have to face them alone,” Hoseok begs.

“Oh, no… no, no, no,” Yoongi repeats, shaking his hand at the desperate looking man.

“Please, Yoongi-sshi, I thought I could do it, face them on my own, but the phone call proved otherwise.” Hoseok looks like he’s on the verge of crying, and Yoongi’s no match against tears.

“Ahh fuck, why’d I come here?” Yoongi bemoans, a hand covering his face. “Fine, but then you do something for me after, deal?”

“Anything, I swear,” Hoseok responds immediately.

 

“Fuck, fuck, your father’s Jung Suk-Won? Shit, you’re _that_ Jung Hoseok?” Yoongi spits out in total shock as he notices the CEO across the room of the moderately crowded restaurant.

“That Jung Hoseok?” Hoseok turns to face him.

“Yeah, the only heir to the Jung Empire, that Jung Hoseok.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that, and before you judge me as a spoiled rich kid, let me inform you I put myself through college. I have a business degree and work as a personal financial consultant. I pay my own bills, and I’m not living off of my daddy’s money. So that conversation you witnessed is allowed. I don’t owe them shit,” Hoseok glares at his parents as he talks, and Yoongi wonders who the man’s really trying to convince.

“Hey, no judgment. I was just surprised is all,” Yoongi says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry, both for what I just said and for anything that’s about to happen,” Hoseok apologizes and takes a deep breath as though to steel himself against whatever battle he’s about to face.

“Hoseok, it’s good to see you,” a woman Yoongi assumes is Hoseok’s mother says. “And you are?” She turns to face Yoongi.

“Min Yoongi, ma’am," he says with a bow.

“You have very good manners, Min Yoongi. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Yoongi bows to Hoseok’s father before taking a seat. The man gives a curt nod, and Yoongi swallows down his nervousness.

“So have you thought about what your mother and I are proposing?” Hoseok father asks the moment the man sits down.

Yoongi hears Hoseok inhale then exhale before responding.

“I’ve already given my answer, Father, and I will not be changing it,” Hoseok says calmly.

The luncheon feels like an epic battle scene in a movie, only instead of guns and heavy artillery, the weapon of choice is biting words, all aimed at Hoseok and used in the most polite, passive aggressive manner Yoongi has ever witnessed. Hoseok takes each shot with the grace befitting his status, but Yoongi can see each hit denting the man’s armor, creating invisible cracks. It’s like he’s watching Hoseok bleed to death, and it’s more than he can take. The thing about Yoongi, is that he can’t sit by and watch innocent people be bullied without opening his mouth.

“Look, if your purpose for this meal is to attack the parenting style of the person I’m dating, then I think it’s time we leave,” Yoongi says, grabbing Hoseok’s clenched fists under the table. “Jimin’s one of the happiest children I know, kind and well-mannered. You should be praising Hoseok for the way he’s raised Jimin instead of tearing him down like he’s a condemned building that needs to be bulldozed.” Yoongi stands to his feet, pulling Hoseok up with him.

“When you’re ready to hear what Hoseok has to say, feel free to contact me, here’s my card.” Yoongi tosses the business card on the table. “Until then, please stop calling him. He’s told you very clearly several times while sitting here that Jimin’s not a business transaction nor is he a chess piece to be played. He’s your grandchild. When you’re ready to abide by the terms that Hoseok has given, then and only then you can pick up the phone and call. Thank you for the meal.” Yoongi bows before dragging Hoseok from the table.

They don’t talk in the back of the cab. Hoseok’s head is against the glass, and his fingers are worrying the hem of his jacket. Yoongi grabs the man’s hand; it’s habit he’s picked up from years of friendship with Namjoon.

“Thank you,” Hoseok says after a while. “I thought I could get through to them. I should have known better.” A tear rolls down Hoseok’s cheek, and Yoongi fights the urge to wipe it. Hoseok is not Namjoon.

“You’re welcome. I hate watching people get bullied. I think people in power should be held accountable for how they use their power.” Hoseok smiles at him, and Yoongi’s heart does something strange.

“I want them to know him, you know? They’re his grandparents for fuck's sake. But I want Jimin to have a happy childhood more. Is that fucked up of me? Does that make me a bad parent for not letting him see them?” Hoseok’s eyes are pleading for a reply to his query.

“No. You’re not a bad parent,” Yoongi ensures. “After spending the most uncomfortable evening of my life pretending to be the boyfriend of a person I barely know, I’ve learned that you’re a strong, goodhearted person who loves his child and wants to protect him at all costs, and that, Jung Hoseok, is never a bad thing in my book.”

Hoseok smiles. It’s blinding, and Yoongi’s thrown off kilter by it.

“Thank you, Yoongi-sshi,” Hoseok says softly. “So, what do you want in return.”

“Nothing,” Yoongi says after some thought. “I learned a lot about you today, things that have changed my perspective on some matters. You’re a good person, Hoseok; I’m happy Namjoon’s met you.”

Hoseok stares at him curiously but doesn’t immediately respond.

“I’m happy to have met you and Namjoon too,” the man’s says, his cheeks dusted a soft shade of pink.

Yoongi doesn’t miss the response or the blush.

The day hadn't turned out the way he’d planned, but Yoongi can’t bring himself to be mad about it.

 

 ****

Jin feels awkward, sitting next to Namjoon, trying to pretend that he's not affected by the fact that _he’s sitting next to Namjoon._ The three boys have long since abandoned the movie in favor of playing games in Jungkook’s room, and Jin’s trying to pay attention to what’s happening on the screen in front of him, but it’s hard when Namjoon’s cologne wisps past his nose, carried by each blow of the air conditioning.

“You want to do something else?” Namjoon asks suddenly, so suddenly Jin jumps when the man speaks.

“Uhm, uhm, do you?” _Solid Jin, solid. Way to answer like an adult with a medical degree,_ he berates himself.

“I can’t concentrate on the movie for some reason. I could, uhm, put on coffee and we could, uhm, talk?” Namjoon makes a face as he asks the question, and it reminds Jin so much of something Taehyung would do, he almost pinches the man’s cheeks. 

He sits on his hands.

“Coffee sounds great, actually. Taehyung woke me up before the sun today so I’m a bit tired,” he tells Namjoon, feeling somewhat more at ease now that the man’s no longer mere inches away from him.

“I woke up early this morning too,” Namjoon informs him as he walks toward the kitchen

“Jungkook woke you up as well?” Jin inquires, following Namjoon as though being dragged by an invisible leash.

“No, I was just so nerv—uhm, I just kind of woke up,” Namjoon answers, turning to face him, a soft blush coloring his cheeks. “I, uhm, have Japanese coffee or Starbucks.”

“Whichever is fine,” Jin says automatically, taking a step back, putting some space between them, fearing he might reach out and touch.

“Japanese it is then. Yoongi brought it back, and I haven’t had a chance to try it. So how was your week?” Namjoon makes small talk as he busies himself in the kitchen.

Jin tells Namjoon about his entire week, minus the part about being distracted because of him.

“Wow, you see that many patients in a week?” Namjoon asks as he measures the coffee into the machine before adding water and pushing the brew button.

“It sounds like a lot more than it is, and it doesn’t feel hard because I love it, you know?”

“Did you always want to be a doctor?” Namjoon asks as he opens a cupboard.

“Can I help with anything?” he asks.

“Mmm, there’s creamer in the fridge if you want to grab it,” Namjoon says.

“Okay, and no, I didn’t always want to be a doctor. I grew up on a farm, and for a while, I wanted to be a farmer.”

“Oh, what changed your mind?” Namjoon sounds genuinely curious.

“My little sister got sick when I was in the fifth grade. She was in the hospital for close to a year. The doctor who cared for her was amazing. I remember thinking he was a superhero. Anyway, one day I told my parents I wanted to be a doctor like Doctor Lee, and the rest, I guess, is history.” He turns around to find Namjoon staring at him, eyes soft and shining. “What? Is something on my face?”

Namjoon chuckles.

“No, your face is fine. It’s just interesting how things shape our lives and change the direction we travel. Like if your sister didn’t get sick, then you wouldn’t have met doctor Lee or become a doctor. Which means that night Jungkook fell and I took him to urgent care, you wouldn’t have been the doctor who saw him. We would never have met, Taehyung would never have been in Jungkook’s class, and this moment standing in my kitchen would never have occurred. Life is just so random, isn’t it?” Namjoon asks with such wonder that all Jin can do is shake his head in agreement.

“What about you? Did you always want to be a writer?”

“Mmm, yes. My earliest memory is of making up stories in my car-seat as my mom ran errands. She has this story I wrote when I was like five about a mouse named Mousy,” Namjoon says with a chuckle.

“Clever name,” Jin teases.

“Hey, I was five,” the blonde retorts, hitting Jin lightly on the arm.

They take the coffee back to the living room, and the atmosphere is nice; they can hear Taehyung and Jungkook giggle as Jimin yells “off with their heads.”

“Hoseok made the mistake of reading him Alice In Wonderland.”

“I love that story. I read it Jungkook on some nights. He likes the rabbit,” Namjoon says with a smile that has a dimple peeking out on his cheek.

They sit quietly for a bit, sipping their coffee and enjoying the sounds of happy laughter floating in the air.

“Can I ask you a question?’ Jin asks suddenly. “If it’s too personal you don’t have to answer.”

“Uhm, okay?” Namjoon replies cautiously.

“What happened to uhm, I mean… how did you?” He can’t seem to find the right words.

“You mean the agoraphobia?” Namjoon looks at his hands.

“Yes, but really, if you don’t want to talk about it, I get it,” Jin says, feeling somewhat guilty for bringing it up.

“I wasn’t always like this,” Namjoon says with a sigh. “Jungkook’s mom was my highs school crush; she was beautiful, uhm is beautiful. We were friends. Then one day she told she was pregnant, and my heart just kind of broke, you know? Because the baby wasn’t mine; we weren’t in that kind of relationship. The guy who got her pregnant dumped her and wanted nothing to do with her or her child. She would cry on my shoulder and ask me what she should do. I honestly had no answer for her; we were kids. Then one day she said she was going to abort the baby, and I begged her not to, told her I would help her raise the child.”

Namjoon pauses to take an another sip of the coffee resting in his lap. He doesn’t speak for a few more minutes, and Jin doesn’t push. He doesn’t want to overstep his boundaries.

“When Jungkook was two, Jennie said she was going to the store. She took Jungkook with her,” Namjoon laughs bitterly. “I still remember the happy smile on his face with his Thomas backpack and backwards cap; he was so excited to go with her. I kissed him and told him I’d see him soon, and I watched them walk away. Four hours later, it was evident Jennie didn’t go to the store, that she wasn’t coming back and she’d taken Jungkook with her. I felt sick to my stomach, like someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room, and I wanted to die. I felt hurt, betrayed, used, and empty, like my humanity had been ripped from my body.” Namjoon pauses and runs a shaky hand through his blonde locks. “Around ten that night, Jennie calls Yoongi’s phone to tell him that she's left Jungkook, two-year-old Jungkook, alone at the train station. It turns out when she told him they were going away, he started to cry and told her he didn’t want to go without me. So she left him. She fucking left her child. When I think of what could have happened to him, I want to hurt her.” The words are filled with venom, and Jin understands why. “I guess the anxiety, pressure, anger, and fear just mixed, and it was more than I could handle because I ended up in the hospital after having a psychotic episode. Yoongi said I tried to scratch my eyes out; I honestly don’t remember anything.” Namjoon’s staring in his direction, but not at him.

“I’m so sorry, Namjoon. I shouldn’t have pried,” Jin says, taking one of Namjoon’s hands into his own.

Namjoon finally looks at him, eyes soft.

“Don’t be. It felt good to say it. For so long it's just been this thing in my past that hangs over my head, you know? No one’s ever wanted to know before, so I’ve just kept it locked away. But saying it out loud, acknowledging that it happened, feels oddly freeing. Does that make sense? God, I must sound crazy.” Namjoon says through nervous laughter.

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Namjoon. I think you’re incredible, to be honest. I secretly thank Taehyung every night for kidnapping Jungkook because I wanted to see you again after that night in the emergency room, but I knew you’d never call.” Jin keeps telling his brain to tell his mouth to stop talking, but neither are listening. “Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck, this isn’t the time. God damn it, stop cursing.” He takes a deep breath and looks up to find Namjoon staring.

“This is a date, isn’t it?” The man asks, but it’s not a question.

“Do... do you want it to be?” Jin feels insecure.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’m in the right place for that just yet,” Namjoon says, and Jin can’t help the way the corners of his mouth turn down at the news. “But,” Namjoon continues, and Jin looks up at the man, hope bubbling in his gut “I’m happy that Taehyung kidnapped Jungkook too. I hope for right now, that can be enough.”

Jin smiles at him, squeezing Namjoon’s hand which he's still holding.

“It’s absolutely enough, more than I was even expecting,” he tells Namjoon, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on the man’s forehead.

“Ewww,” Jungkook’s voice has them looking up.

“That’s not eww, Kookie. Daddies are supposed to do that, right Jimin?” Taehyung turns to the little boy who’s standing just to the right of him.

Jimin thoughtfully surveys the situation before addressing Taehyung.

“Off with their heads,” he declares as the trio attack the couch in a fit of giggles.

As Namjoon’s laughter mixes with the boys’, Jin thinks to himself maybe Taehyung had the right idea all along. Family’s not just about blood and sharing the same DNA. Sometimes it’s just a matter of trusting and believing in the person sitting right next to you.

 

**********************************************************************

come chat with me here[ twitter](https://twitter.com/lsgrlr) and [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/lulublue) 

/psst/ hey you, yeah you, come closer. I may be willing to give tidbits of part II if you ask me real nice on Curious Cat.


	2. PART TWO!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please read and comment

Link to part two: [Gimme The News](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12163413/chapters/27605247). The chapter will be up later tonight.

Also, please follow me on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/lsgrlr), or on my [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/lulublue) page. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. There is a part two. This story is part one in a series. So, if you want more, fear not, it's coming. Please let me know what you think.


End file.
